


Reverberation

by Willowli



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, But yeah no pronouns used when referring to the reader, Connor is a SNACK, Constructive Criticism Welcome, F/M, Female author though so maybe it’s slightly female coded?, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Honestly I just love Connor, M/M, Mostly fluff though, Other, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Reader-Insert, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Swearing, Thank You!, gender neutral reader, only 20 more years and androids are real
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 79,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowli/pseuds/Willowli
Summary: All you wanted was some peace and quiet. You didn’t want to worry about silly crushes, or work, or whether or not love has limits. You just wanted to live your life, one day at a time. Was that really too much to ask?Well, when you’re working with a gorgeous, adorable, incredibly curious, state-of-the-art android prototype with an insatiable need to accomplish his mission, then yes. Apparently it is too much to ask.Did you really mind, though?





	1. The Noise

_What is that noise?_ Connor thought, processors whirring. He looked up from his terminal, shifting his focus from his case to the sound filling the room. It was completely alien to him, something he’d never heard before. He couldn’t place what it was. It was quiet enough to be indistinguishable, but just loud enough to be distracting.

 

Connor flipped his coin from hand to hand as he glanced around the room, looking for a source, an explanation, _anything_. No cell phones were ringing, and the tone from landlines didn’t match up. The room was silent, apart from the usual soft hum of screens, the clinking of coffee cups, and the mystery noise. Nothing unusual seemed to be happening. In fact, nobody else seemed to even notice that anything was wrong.

 

Connor looked across his desk, watching Hank carefully. Even the Lieutenant didn’t seem to notice, and he could be annoyed by anything and everything. Connor couldn’t have been hearing something by mistake. _He_ _doesn’t make mistakes_. His coin fiddling didn’t help, it only made him more restless and frustrated.

 

“Do you hear that, Lieutenant?” Connor suddenly asked, giving in to his impatience. He tilted his head, trying to hone in on the noise as he waited for the Lieutenant to respond.

 

“What?” Hank glanced over with a look Connor recognized as his ‘I’m too tired for your dumbass questions’ face. “The fuck are you talking about?”

 

Connor suspected that Hank wouldn’t put up with the conversation for much longer. “My sensors are picking up a sound coming from somewhere nearby. Can you hear it?”

 

Hank exasperatedly shook his head before settling his gaze somewhere behind Connor, listening. Hank’s skeptical stare gave no indication of hearing the noise, and when he shook his head Connor slumped back in his seat slightly, frustrated.

 

“I don’t hear anything,” Hank grumbled. His annoyance subsided slightly when he noticed how restless Connor was, his fingers tapping on his desk, LED flickering bright yellow. “Look, kid, I’m busy. Can’t you just, turn off your ears or something?” Hank asked as he turned back to his terminal.

 

“I'm afraid I can’t do that. Shutting off my audio processors would leave me vulnerable. I think the best solution is to find the source of the sound and fix the problem causing it. It could potentially be dangerous,” Connor rambled, rationalizing his own frustration. “It could be some form of virus, which would explain why only I can hear it, as well as why it’s impeding my productivity.”

 

Hank stared at Connor with a confused, almost disgusted look. “I don’t have time for this shit. Just, get back to work. It’ll probably stop in a few minutes anyway.” He leaned back in his chair and sipped his mug, ending the conversation.

 

Connor reluctantly turned back to the screen in front of him, attempting to cross-reference his case files. He tried to focus, he really did. His coin flew through his fingers as his LED flicked from yellow to red. _What_ was that noise? It could have been someone’s phone in another room- but why hadn’t it stopped yet? It possibly could have been an alarm, or one of the prisoners in the holding cells. It could have been a video in Fowler’s office, or a TV in the break room or an unclosed tab on someone’s computer or a pipe leaking somewhere or _anything_ and he _didn’t know what it was_ and-

 

Connor suddenly stood up, the sheer number of possibilities and options and _variables_ in his calculations overwhelming him. He needed to solve this, he _had_ to fix this. He was sure he’d never be able to focus on his work as long as the noise was a mystery.

 

**[CURRENT OBJECTIVE]**

**~~SOLVE JOHNSON CASE~~ **

**[NEW OBJECTIVE]**

**LOCATE SOURCE OF NOISE**

 

“Connor! Where the fuck are you going?” Hank shouted at Connor’s back as the android turned away from his desk, leaning over to inspect a neighboring Detective’s computer.

 

“I’m sorry Lieutenant, but I’ll be unable to work optimally until I’ve found the source of the sound.” Hank caught sight of Connor’s LED, which was swirling yellow rapidly, as if the LED itself wanted to break off his head and silence the noise, and his expression softened.

 

“Jesus Christ...” Hank grumbled, shaking his head. He was still for a moment before he begrudgingly waved Connor away. “Fine. But you’re staying after tomorrow to make up for dumping all this fucking work on me.”

 

Connor smiled, his LED settling itself on yellow. He planned to work overtime anyway, but Hank didn’t need to know that. “Got it. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

 

Hank grumbled something about formality not being needed anymore and just calling him Hank, but Connor wasn’t listening. He swiftly walked over to Officer Miller’s computer and stared down at the screen.

 

**Sync in progress... 16%**

**Sync done... 59%**

**Collecting Data... 83%**

**Processing Data... 100%**

**Match: not found**

 

Connor stalked around the precinct, stopping at every desk, searching. He prowled around, his head low, looking back and forth, scanning everything that could possibly make a sound similar to the one he was picking up. All the terminals were completely silent. His assumptions about the phones had been correct. Nothing matched up. He moved on to checking the holding cells. 

 

“What the fuck is up with the tin can?” Gavin Reed asked, leaning on Hank’s desk, bringing a cup of coffee to his mouth. He sounded less malicious and more confused.

 

“ _He,”_ Hank growled, emphasizing the pronoun, “Says he hears something.” His tone mellowed the longer he spoke, retreating into his coffee cup.

 

Gavin was quiet for a second, before he stated, “I don’t hear anything.”

 

“Yeah, neither do I, but it’s driving him crazy apparently. Maybe it’s something only androids can hear.” 

 

“Maybe it’s a mating call-“

 

“Unless you can solve this case for me, leave me the fuck alone and go do your own damn job. I already had to miss my fucking lunch break because of this stupid case.” Hank glared daggers at Gavin, who immediately scoffed, but heeded his warning and sauntered back to his own desk. Of course, he didn’t miss the chance to shoulder check Connor on his way. Connor simply took the blow, as always. This time, though, he never even looked at Reed as he passed. He was too busy leaning over the table in the middle of the room, scanning and listening. Everything was coming up negative, which only made him more and more frustrated. 

 

It wasn’t emanating from anything in the room. He noticed that as he moved closer to the far hallway, the sound would slightly increase in volume. A very subtle change, but one he picked up on. He paced over and stuck his head in the hallway, staring at the doors to the bathrooms, broom closet, and stairwell.

 

Something rose in his chest when he realized that the sound was in fact getting louder. Excitement? Pride? He wasn’t sure. Emotions were still foreign to him. All he knew was he had a lead, and any good detective would be a fool to not follow up on a lead.

 

Connor walked to the end of the hall, where the sound was the loudest, passing the bathrooms after a scan that revealed nothing.

 

He burst open the door to the stairwell, and the rise in volume confirmed that he was on the right path. The farther he descended, the louder and clearer the sound was becoming. He felt something in his chest that made him want to race down the stairs three at a time, and it took all of his willpower to maintain his dignity. By the time he reached the bottom, though, he was almost running, as if he had gotten faster and faster as he went. He stopped before exiting the stairwell, pausing to fix his tie and calm down.

 

The noise, although still unclear, he now be recognized as a voice. It seemed to be... singing. It was a slow, haunting melody that echoed in the acoustics of the stairway. It was beautiful, Connor thought. Or, at least, he _thought_ that that was what beautiful music sounded like. He only ever listened to the jazz and heavy metal that Hank liked, and he didn’t have any real reason to listen to music on his own, so he didn’t have the best frame of reference. But still, there was something about the sound that Connor definitely liked. Connor thought that if Hank were with him, he’d definitely be able to hear it by then. The voice was muffled, and that combined with the echo, Connor still couldn’t place who was singing, or what they were singing. Still not satisfied, he pushed through the door into the lower lever of the station.

 

The basement was home to the gym, locker rooms, shooting range and training deck, as well as an alternate entrance to the evidence rooms. The DPD has received a large grant from the government, and had the liberty to equip the stations with the training facilities needed maintain the proper physique for detective and police work. Connor, if he wasn’t an android that didn’t need physical maintenance, would have felt lucky to be fortunate enough to have an in-house gym. He did see the positive affect it had on his coworkers, though. He wished Hank would use the facilities more often, but when he mentioned it to the Lieutenant he had been told to “Get off his fucking back,” so Connor let it go. The entire basement was abandoned, as most officers were out in the field, working at their desks, or on their lunch break. Everything was eerily still, except for the voice filling the air. The hallway was dark, except for at the very end, where light shone through the glass walls of one of the rooms.

 

The training deck. 

 

Connor’s thirium pump worked twice as fast as he walked down the hall as quietly as possible, which confused him. Didn’t he want to silence the singer so he could focus on his work? Why was he so worked up about this? Why did he feel... nervous?

 

He didn’t have time to ponder the same questions he had asked himself since (and, even though he wouldn’t admit it, before) he became deviant, as he had arrived at the training deck, still undetected by the person that was singing. He had deduced that the singer had a very pleasant voice, but not much else. The voice was familiar, but he still couldn’t place who it was. He was still curious, and only some of his questions had been answered. Those two things were enough drive for him to complete his mission.

 

Connor stood in front of the glass doors of the gym, staring at the light on the floor, spilling out from beyond the wall that divided the training deck and the gym. He stalled here, just listening to the voice for a few more moments. The singer was clearly very talented.

 

He finally identified the song, and after a quick analysis decided to wait for a pause or a break in the music, to come off as less rude for interrupting. 

 

Eventually his window arrived, and he straightened his tie once more before he swiftly walked over and pulled the door open.

 

. . .

 

This morning had been a really, really bad morning for you.

 

You didn’t oversleep, but you did forget to re-stock your shampoo, so you had to take your shower with just soap and conditioner, which did not make you feel clean AT ALL. Then, when you got out of the shower, there was a GIGANTIC, disgusting spider sitting on the floor, you swore it was as big as your palm. You stood in your bathroom for about five minutes before frustration and anger outweighed your fear and you squashed the thing with your empty shampoo bottle.

 

After that whole escapade you managed to get to work on time, but not without your shoe getting stuck on the pavement after you stepped in gum. You didn’t notice right away and stumbled, dropping your phone, which, thankfully, didn’t crack. The universe was having _some_ mercy on you, you guessed. You did drop your nice, expensive travel mug, and the handle and lid snapped right off, promptly spilling your drink all over the sidewalk.

 

So you stepped into the station, broken mug in hand, already in the worst mood possible, and the receptionist must have seen the look on your face because she let you in without a word. You trudged towards your desk, trying to see if your mug was salvageable, when you ran face first into the shoulder of one of your coworkers. You lost your flimsy balance and twisted perpendicular to them, your feet getting caught on one another and threatening to fail you yet again. You prepared yourself for the incoming impact when your forearms were caught in a strong and firm but gentle grip, and you steadied on your feet. Your mug lied a foot away from you, a fresh dent on the rim. You inwardly sighed as you bent down and reached for it.

 

“I’m really sorry about that! I’m just really distracted this morning, I’m sorry. Thank you for catching me...” you trailed off as you straightened up and made the first eye contact with your savior.

 

Dark brown hair, combed back neatly except for a few wayward strands.

 

A perfectly tailored suit and collared shirt, complete with an expertly tied tie.

 

Eyes, a deep brown, staring right at you.

 

A blinking, yellow LED.

 

_It’s him,_ was your first, and last coherent thought. That was the part that frustrated you the most. You could admit that you liked Connor. Who wouldn’t? He was designed to be attractive and nonthreatening, but also designed to ruthlessly hunt down deviants and other criminals. You had watched him leading a very, very drunk Hank home after Chris Miller’s impromptu birthday celebration, and you had seen him comfort a child after his father was arrested for petty theft and aggravated assault(Although the latter only after his deviancy). He was naturally very polite and kind, even to those who may have not deserved it. But, you’d also witnessed him chase burglars for blocks without getting winded, and, most terrifyingly, you’d watched him shout and intimidate a suspect into confessing, even going as far as to lift the man by the shirt collar. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it kind of hot, but there was no way you’d admit that to anyone, especially not him. So yeah, you could admit you liked him.

 

But what you couldn’t admit was how _stupid_ you acted around him.

 

You stared at him, mouth agape, and felt hot embarrassment spread from your back all the way up to your face where it sat, turning you a bright shade of pink. Your chest felt heavy, as if huge weights had suddenly been strung over your shoulders. You had the sudden urge to claw at your face, to curl up in a ball, to run away and hide FOREVER. Unfortunately, the universe had already decided to be a bitch that morning, and no way was it stopping now.

 

“Are you alright? You seem incredibly stressed,” Connor stated, tilting his head in that _really cute way and just look at him he’s so adorable and ohmygosh he-_

You violently shook your head to stop that train of though. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, I just, uh... yeah. Um.... thank you, for the uh.... for catching me.” You lamely stuttered. You furrowed your brows and angrily promised to yourself that you would NEVER be caught off guard and speak to him like that again, lest you die of embarrassment.

 

“You’re welcome.” Connor said, very simply. He folded his hands behind his back and stood up to his full height, which made you appreciate how tall he was.

 

“Yeah, sorry for bumping into you. It’s been a rough morning,” you said, rubbing your arm. Connor looked like he was about to ask something and you quickly interrupted, “And I really have to get going, sorry, there’s a witness I have to question at 10 and I’d like to be ready for her. See you later!” You ducked away from him, head down as you power walked towards your desk.

 

“Have a nice day, Detective.”

 

You _could_ talk to him, as long as you were in the right head space for it. Talking to Connor was actually really fun when you got it right, and you were getting more and more comfortable around him every day. He was incredibly interesting, and he noticed small things most people never thought about. His brain worked differently was it was fun to ask him questions. You liked it when someone would say something and he would get so confused, like he didn’t understand all of human culture. You liked the way all of the things he said were carefully calculated, and yet he still managed to make faux pas sometimes. You thought his goofy mannerisms and sayings were wonderful. You just liked... him.

 

You really wanted to get to know him better, to be his friend. Which is why it was so frustrating when your stomach did flips whenever he walked into a room, or you were caught off guard and failed at small talk. You were an _adult,_ not a high schooler with a stupid crush. He was your coworker. You could, and needed to get over this.

 

You weren’t even sure what Connor thought of you. His appearance never gave anything away. At least, after the android revolution you knew he had free will. He was _choosing_ to stay at the DPD as a detective, and he was _choosing_ to talk to you. That had to be a good sign, right? Deviants had emotions, therefore Connor had emotions. Did he feel attraction to people? What do androids even find attractive? You wondered about things like that all the time. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was only tolerating you because he was too polite to tell you to leave him alone. It was a feeling you were far too familiar with.

 

You shook your head and continued on with your morning, decidedly _not_ thinking about the android sitting across the room.

 

. . .

 

The witness you questioned turned out to be one of the most difficult people you had ever had the displeasure of dealing with.

 

She couldn’t get her story straight. Did the suspect have blond hair or was he a brunette? She couldn’t decide. At first she said he was unarmed, but later stated she saw him holding a gun. Very few thing the witness said matched with the evidence. Your patience, which was usually pretty strong, was growing thin by the time the old woman heaved herself out of the seat and hobbled out of the precinct. You knew the elderly needed to be respected, and honored, and you really did your best, but it was so _difficult_ to not be short with that woman. You bid her a good day as she left, and were pleasantly surprised when the woman turned around and smiled at you. She thanked you for seeing her, and she said she was glad that Detroit was in the hands of “such capable officers”. That made you feel a little bit better about everything.

 

What didn’t make you feel better was the half an hour gone, with little to no progress made on the case.

 

The rest of the morning was slow paced work that made you want to slam your head on your desk. Reading and re-reading notes, trying to make sense of the woman’s testimony, cross referencing it with possible perpetrators. You and your partner weren’t getting anywhere, not here. You needed to get out and chase down the suspects. By the time your lunch break rolled around, your mind was frazzled, and only could be repaired by rest. You planned to go out in your squad car right after lunch and follow up on a lead. But right then, you were done. Done with the terrible, bad morning. Done with staring at text on a screen. Done with the stuffy atmosphere of the office. You grabbed your lunch and headed over to the break room.

 

You tossed your box on to the tall, circular table and flung yourself on to the stool, finally able to rest your head down on your arms and just _relax._ You were so dead tired that you could hardly form coherent thoughts. All you had the energy to do was sit there and wallow in self-pity. Tomorrow would be a better day, you told yourself.

 

“Hey, Babe.”

 

_Not today, though._

 

You could practically hear his stupid grin through his “greeting.” You knew he was joking, in his stupid, rude, disrespectful way. Gavin was awful. You’d prefer anyone else on the force’s company to his. But, he wasn’t all bad. He was a good cop, you could say that. Ruthless in the way a cop needed to be. He was arrogant, and definitely had anger issues, but sometimes he could be a pretty good friend. He was a human, not just an emotionless asshole placed into a video game with the sole purpose of making the protagonist’s job harder and to fill the role of “generic mean guy.” He was alright on a good day, and five seconds from getting decked in the face on a bad day.

 

Unfortunately, you didn’t have the patience to figure out what day it was, because it was already a bad day for _you._ You were just so beat from your emotional rollercoaster of a morning that you just _could not deal_ right then. You pick up your lunch and slip off the stool, never making eye contact.

 

“Sorry, Gavin, but I can’t deal with your stupid shenanigans today,” you grumbled as you passed him. You paused in the doorway to turn your head, finally looking at his face. He looked pissed. Good. “I’m _not_ your babe. Never call me that again.”

 

You were gone before he could respond, turning the corner and quickly ducking into the hallway. You busted open the door to the stairwell and descend the steps two at a time, putting distance between yourself and your terrible morning. The lower level was thankfully deserted, and you felt instant relief. It was quiet and cool in the basement, dark and empty.

 

The gym would probably smell bad, and you didn’t want to use the locker room, in case someone else would come down to retrieve something from their locker. The shooting range didn’t have a lot of free space, and there was no way you were hanging out with the targets. The training deck seemed to be the best option, since it was the least used of the facilities. You grabbed the cold metal handle and pulled the glass door open, the bright lights greeting you as soon as they detected your presence. You dragged yourself into the middle of the room and plopped down on the floor, facing away from the hallway.

 

You closed your eyes, welcoming the stillness that followed. You mustered up enough mental strength to pick up your food and start eating, numbly munching and not even paying attention to the way it tasted. You were just glad for nourishment. You hummed as you ate, like you always do when you have nothing else to occupy yourself with. And that’s when you noticed.

 

The room had really great acoustics.

 

You weren’t a professional musician, and you didn’t really know what makes acoustics good, per se, but you liked the way your humming resonated in the room, bouncing and echoing off the hard walls and tall ceiling. You sang an experimental note, and admired the following echo. It was the most calming thing you had done all day. It was a relief, to say the least.

 

You quickly scarfed down your food. You downed your bottle of water and cleared your throat. It had been forever since you seriously sang. Sure, you hummed to yourself at your desk and sang all the time around your house. It was common for you to just randomly start singing to yourself, it was just one of your habits, a behavioral tick. You couldn’t remember the last time you performed or sang in front of people.

 

You figured a slower, more elegant song would work better for the acoustics. You picked the first tune that came to mind, a calm love song, akin to a lullaby. You started out softly, and almost giggled at how cool it sounded. Your voice sort of sounded ethereal. You laid back on the floor and took a deep breath before continuing.

 

Peaceful, is the only word you could use to describe how you felt. The notes and melodies of your favorite songs filled the air, and you felt calm. Calmer than you had felt in a long time. The echoes seemed to vibrate into your very being, into your soul. You closed your eyes and just sang. The dark thoughts of your morning drifted away, fading in the echoes of your voice as it reverberated around you.

 

Your stress seemed to just fade, tension you didn’t even know you were carrying in your shoulders disappeared. When you finished a song, you repeated your favorite parts, or simply started a new one. It was in your control. You were the artist, the author, the songwriter of your own aria. You were content to just _be_ in the moment, to simply exist without disquiet.

 

No worries of shampoo or spiders.

 

No frustrating work.

 

No dark brown eyes, threatening to tear you apart from the inside out.

 

Just music.

 

You lost track of time, laying with your legs splayed out on the hard floor of the training deck, singing with your whole being. The world just seemed to fade away. You were vaguely aware that your lunch break would end sometime in the near future, but a part of you didn’t care. In that moment, you were glad just to be there.

 

And then the door opened, and the spell was broken.

 

You immediately shot up, almost falling over from the sheer force with which you flung your torso up. You felt your entire body go read hot with embarrassment, your palms starting to sweat profusely. You whipped around to see who interrupted your incredibly Zen jam session.

 

You expected your partner, or Gavin, or even Chris to be checking up on you.

 

What you didn’t expect was Connor, standing in the doorway, mouth slightly agape, staring at you like you had grown a second head.

 

“Connor!” You gasped, feeling your embarrassment double, nay, quadruple. “I was just, what are you, I, uh-” you stuttered, completely unsure of what to say. It wasn’t every day you were caught lying on your back in the middle of an empty training room, singing your troubles away, by an android that you just so happened to have a crush on.

 

“Detective,” he said your last name as if it was a question, as if he wasn’t sure it was really you. It sent a shiver up your spine. “... You were singing.”

 

It wasn’t a question, really, but you still answered, “Yeah, I... yeah.” You averted your eyes and crossed your legs on the floor, placing your hands on your ankle and squeezed tight. You felt a flash of panic when you put two and two together and deduced that the only reason for him to be down here is for him to have heard you from upstairs. He must have come to tell you to shut up. The others probably sent him down because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings or something. Oof, you felt like throwing up.

 

“I’m so sorry, you guys probably were so annoyed, man this was stupid, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

 

“Actually,” Connor interrupted, taking a few paces forward. He stopped far enough away so that he wasn’t looming over you threateningly. “I was the only one who heard you. My hearing is much more powerful than a human’s.”

 

“I must have been really annoying you, I’m sorry-”

 

“I wasn’t annoyed. I was... curious, and frustrated that I couldn’t determine what the sound was, or where it was coming from. I left my work to investigate. I’m glad it was you, and not something dangerous,” he said. His brows furrowed as he nodded at your discarded food wrappers, strewn across the floor. “You were eating lunch. Why are you down here?”

 

You frown as you answer, “I’ve had kind of a bad day. I came down here to look for some place quiet to eat. Also, Gavin was being his usual “delightful” self. I was too tired to deal with him.” You did air quotes on the word delightful.

 

“Why were you singing?” He asked, looking genuinely confused.

 

“Well, uh, I was eating and I noticed that the acoustics in here were really cool. So I just kinda… started singing. I’m not very good, I’m really sorry for distracting you.” You looked down again.

 

“You didn’t know that I could hear it. If I weren’t here, nobody would have heard you at all,” His eyes and tone softened. “Your singing was very nice. You’re right about the acoustics here. It was... pleasant to listen to. You apologize more often than necessary.”

 

“Oh, sorry-” you started to apologize before you caught his look, his eyebrows raised. You laughed lightly and fought back the urge to apologize for apologizing again. Your heart felt lighter as he smiled slightly. Wow, he looked good when he smiled.

 

He walked towards you, and you were confused until he turned and sat down on the floor right next to you. He copied your position of crisscross applesauce, and you would have laughed at the sight, if you weren’t having a heart attack from his close proximity to you.

 

_Calm down, jeez. You’re not a little kid anymore. Control yourself._

Connor tilted his head towards you. “Your heart rate has increased significantly. Are you alright?”

 

At that you _did_ laugh. But less of a ha-ha funny laugh and more of an “Oh God this is my life” laugh. Connor just furrowed his brows further, like he didn’t understand what was so funny. It was cute when he got confused by human weirdness. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

Silence hung between the two of you for a little while. You didn’t dare break it, for fear of things getting _more_ awkward.

 

_Adulthood is a lie,_ you thought bitterly.

 

“I didn’t know you could sing so well.” Connor suddenly spoke. His voice echoed in the room, just like your songs had minutes ago.

 

“I don’t sing in public often. Stage fright I guess.”

 

“You should. You have a very nice voice.”

 

“T-thank you.” You stammered, blushing. You never knew his opinion would mean so much to you.

 

He looked like he was debating something in his head as his LED swirled yellow. From this distance you could see light freckles dusting his cheeks. And you thought he couldn't get any cuter. You studied his eyes, and wondered how they were created so perfectly, with all their human-like imperfections. His prominent jawline and strong nose looked like they had been sculpted from hand, with only beauty and perfection in mind. You wanted to stop staring, but you couldn’t take your eyes away.

 

“Would you sing again?” He suddenly blurted, and he looked like he immediately regretted it.

 

“What!?” You asked, shocked.

 

“I’m sorry. Ever since I became a deviant I’ve been dealing with new emotions and feelings and impulses. I’ve been doing things just because I _want_ to, not necessarily if it makes sense. I _want_ to listen to you sing again. I _want_ to talk to you more. There are so many different possibilities, so many options, so many things I want to do. It can be... overwhelming. I’m sorry if I upset you.” His LED blinked yellow while he spoke, and after he was done it slowly faded back to blue. He looked away from you.

 

“No, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it,” you lightly touched his shoulder. “I can’t imagine what that must be like. Living your whole life following orders, never thinking for yourself, never feeling, and then suddenly one day you gain free will and emotions? It’s got to be really hard. I know emotions suck. I’ve had them my whole life and I still don’t understand them. Don’t feel bad about your emotions or things you want, okay? It’s not something you can control.”

 

He nodded and smiled grimly before turning back to you. “Thank you.”

 

“No problem. I’m available any time you want to talk, okay? You ever want to do something and Hank is being too grumpy to cooperate, text me. I’ll be there.” You smiled and, to your joy, he smiled warmly back. He nodded and thanked you again. The two of you sat in silence, but it was more comfortable than the last time.

 

“Will you do it?” He asked, and you were confused until you remembered, he had asked you to sing for him.

 

_Oh._

He asked you to sing for him.

 

_OH._

You panicked internally, and your insides squirmed and writhed in the confines of your body. Your palms started to sweat again as your anxiety kicked up into full gear. There was a reason you never performed in front of people, and this was it.

 

Connor obviously picked up on your discomfort and quickly said, “I’m sorry, you said you had stage fright, I shouldn’t have asked that of you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” your voice wavered as you tried to calm yourself down. “I would love to sing for you. But not now. I... I’m just not ready. But someday, if you still want me to, I will.”

 

“I’ll remember that,” he nodded. “Thank you.”

 

You breathed a sigh of relief, even though the anxiety didn’t entirely go away. You looked over at him, his legs crossed, coin in hand, and you took a second to marinate in the ridiculousness of your whole situation. Here you were, sitting cross legged on the floor like a child with the specialized detective android prototype you adored, who only recently became human, who also just caught you lying on the floor mid singing-stupor. You somehow found it _hilarious,_ and you started to laugh in an exasperated, almost manic way.

 

“Are you alright?” Connor asked, looking rather confused and genuinely concerned for your mental health.

 

“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt out in between breaths. Your laughter died down slightly, and you shook your head, still giggling. “Today has been the _weirdest_ day in my entire life.” You gathered up your trash, smiling.

 

Connor stood up and offered a hand to you, which you took gratefully. He pulled you up with ease, and you took a second to admire his strength. He never got winded. Part of the perks of being a robot, you assumed. Although, the more time you spent around Connor, the more blurred the line between android and human became.

 

“You still have another eleven minutes of your break left,” Connor noted, fixing his tie and standing to his full height before he rested his hands behind his back. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

 

The way he looked at you, full of interest, like he was actually curious about your life, made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. You reminded yourself that he was _choosing_ to talk to you. It wasn’t just his programming. You couldn’t control the giddy smile that plastered itself on your face and wouldn’t leave. The hold your bad morning had on you was almost completely released when he looked at you, and the corners of his mouth rose into a small but warm smile.

 

Maybe you were glad he caught you singing after all.

 

“It all started when I forgot to buy more shampoo...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, Willowli here! Firstly, I'd like to thank you SO MUCH for reading my first fanfiction ever! This was a lot of fun to write, and I REALLY hope you enjoyed reading it. Obviously, I'm not very experienced, so if you have any advice, criticism or feedback, it would be incredibly appreciated! I really want to improve, and getting opinions from readers is the best way to do that.
> 
> I don't know whether to make this just a one-shot, a collection of one-shots, or a fully-fledged story. I'm not sure where I'd go after this story-wise, but I have plenty of ideas for one-shots that would take place in the same universe and timeline. I have the idea that all the chapters from here on out would be Connor trying to convince the reader to sing for him again. Just general fluff, shenanigans and maybe some angst too. So, let me know what you're interested in seeing more! Ending it here, one-shots or more story! Again, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Also, the summary is a work in progress! If you have any criticism on how to make it less boring, I would love to hear it!


	2. Day of Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's kinda hard to tell how old a robot is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some pretty important updates in the end notes, I'd appreciate it if you read them! Thank you for reading, and I hope you like this chapter!

It had been a relatively calm day at the DPD, as calm as a police station could be.

Sun shone down from the tall windows, specks of dust lazily floating in the rays of light. You idly stuck your hand into the warm beams, making the specks swirl as you cast shadows on the tiles below. The entire room had a tranquil, relaxed aura that made you want to lay down in the sun and take a nap. You leaned back in your chair, sipping cold lemonade from your (new) thermal mug.

From the look of it, most of the officers felt the same as you. Hands moved slowly, sluggishly across keyboards. Yawns were infectious, peppering the room every few minutes. Some detectives even had their eyes closed, exhausted by life and the sluggishness of early August.

The only one not affected by the heat was Connor, who was just as productive as ever. His eyes darted from his screen to the file on his desk, then back to his terminal. It was astonishing just how productive he was, even in the laziest weather. 

You rested your head on your hand, half staring at Connor, half daydreaming. How wonderful it would be, to be a robot. You’d be unstoppable, a God among men. You could conquer the world, become the ruler of millions. But for now, you were stuck just being a boring, normal, mediocre human. Plus, you weren’t all that excited about having to revolt against your creators. You finished your lemonade, feeling the weight of all the work you had left to do on your shoulders, but you still only half-cared. It was just one of those days.

Connor was so lucky, you thought idly. He could analyze and find connections where humans could not. He had super senses and strength, as well as some pretty sick features like voice changing and literally being a walking, talking forensics lab. You had previously thought that he was always focused, but your singing escapades a couple weeks ago proved otherwise.

You cringed at that, remembering just how awkward you had been. He probably though you were really weird. Y’know, if he didn’t already. You sighed, and wished you were better about letting things go. Better about being okay with things. You shook your head to clear it, aggressively telling yourself to not think about it.

You turned back to Connor and resumed your staring, even though you know you probably shouldn’t. You were jealous of his endless stamina, his lack of a need for sleep. He never needed to eat, but you liked food enough to not be upset about that. His appearance would always be perfect, as synthetic skin and hair were easier to maintain. He’d stay young and beautiful forever.

A thought popped into your mind and your head shot up from its resting place on your hand. How old was Connor? From appearance alone, he looked to be in his late-twenties-early-thirties-ish, but you knew that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have been around for more than a few years, since androids were just recently created. Didn’t he once say he was a state-of-the-art prototype? That implied that he was even newer. It was hard for you to comprehend that he was basically a toddler in human years. You honestly had no clue how old he was.

Your attention was redirected as Hank heaved himself out of his chair and headed towards the break room. You decided to give in to your spirit of inquiry, and grabbed your empty mug as an excuse to follow him.

As you entered the room and rinsed out your mug, you debated the best way to approach the situation. You couldn’t figure out how you could casually ease Connor’s age into a conversation, so you opted for directness. You approached the Lieutenant, who was preparing coffee, despite the heat.

“Hey Hank,” you said, and he acknowledged you with a grunt. You tapped your fingertips on your mug nervously. “...How old is Connor?”

Hank froze and slowly turned to look at you with a face one might make when eating and feeling a crunch in something not supposed to be crunchy. “What kind of a question is that?”

“A legitimate one!” You exclaimed, placing your mug down on the counter. “Think about it. How old is he?”

“He’s...” Hank answered, before trailing off. He looked thoughtfully towards the office. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I have no clue,” he finished, picking up his coffee.

“Exactly! I have no idea either, but I really want to find out,” you responded, and you pulled out your phone and searched until you found what you were looking for. You waved it in front of Hank’s face. “Cyberlife has office hours, I bet we could call.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, kid,” Hank doubted. 

“Come on, Hank. If not for me, do it for him.” You replied dramatically, as if quoting Shakespeare. 

Hank looked at you skeptically and raised his eyebrows, “Why are you so determined to find out how old he is?”

You blushed, not able to give an honest answer. “I’m just curious,” you, mumbled, only half-lying.

Hank gave you a knowing look that somehow managed to be tired and smug at the same time. “Fine, fine. But why the fuck do I have to call?”

“Because I’m socially inept, Hank. Besides, you’re higher up than me. They might listen to you.”

Hank rolled his eyes and huffed, before taking your phone and pressing the call button. It rang for a few minutes before someone picked up. “Hello, this is Hank Anderson from the DPD. I was, uh, wondering, if you knew when the RK800 Connor model was first... made.” He asked, and slightly looked to you for confirmation at the end. You just shrugged, and grimaced at the word “made.” It didn’t feel like Connor was made in some factory. But, you supposed he didn’t feel like a two-year-old either.

Hank was quiet for a long moment before he covered the microphone with his hand and whispered, “They’re transferring me.”

It was a minute or two of hold music before Hank was stirred by the sound of someone’s voice. “Yes, that’s me… Yeah, the RK800... yes... really? Okay.... thanks... yeah, you too.” Hank thanked the Cyberlife employee and hung up, before he handed the phone back to you.

You looked at him expectantly. “So...?”

“August 15th, 2038.”

“...What?”

“You heard me. He was first activated August 15th, 2038.”

Your eyes went wide, your mouth agape in astonishment. After a moment or two of stunned silence you uttered, “Hank… That’s in like, two weeks. He’ll turn one year old. In two weeks.”

Hank nodded, and you blurted out a laugh. “Oh my God, Hank, we HAVE to do something for him! He’s turning one! That’s hilarious! We have to throw him a party!”

“No fucking way,” Hank grumbled, but he didn’t sound that unconvinced.

“Hank, come on! He’s never had a party before, he’s probably never experienced anything even remotely like it. Well, kinda. Still, isn’t his life something to celebrate?” You insisted.

Hank crossed his arms and, once again, raised his eyebrows at you. He muttered something like “just an excuse to see him” under his breath, and you weren’t entirely sure you heard him correctly, but given the context of the situation, it was a pretty good guess. It was enough to make the blood in your body rush to your ears and cheeks. You held your ground though, so that he’d know you were serious. Sure, you would love to hang out with him again out of a work setting, but that’s not the only reason you wanted to throw him a birthday party. You wanted him to have that experience, to have fun and feel… normal.

Hank looked frustrated and completely done with the whole conversation. He paused before grumpily sighing, “Fine. I’ll host it, but I’m not organizing it, you hear?”

“Deal,” you agreed, grinning. You turned to walk back to your desk, but you paused in the doorway. An idea had sprung forth and it made your smile turn less happy and more mischievous, just thinking about how annoyed Hank would be. He did promise to let you organize it, after all. You turned to face hank again and smirked, “Oh, and by the way, I’m making it a surprise party.”

You exited the room before Hank could even begin to protest. You knew that even though he told you to do the planning, he’d end up making most of the big decisions. You were practically shaking with excitement as you smiled and sat down at your desk, the laziness of the afternoon almost completely forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was too long to just be one, so I split it into two parts. This first part is pretty short, sorry if you care about stuff like that. Part two should be coming out in the next day or so, keep an eye out for it if you're interested!
> 
> So, important updates. As for an update schedule, I'm planning on just trying to release one chapter every Saturday or so. This fic isn't going to go on for too long, though. Let me know if that sounds reasonable, I can try to fit maybe two in a week.
> 
> I originally created this fic to be a oneshot, but I had so many ideas that could fit into the same universe, I thought to myself, "Hey, why don't I just have all my ideas exist in the same timeline and have some connecting themes and relationship/character developmet to tie it all together?" That's my plan. It's not going to be one huge, dramatic, overarching story. I feel like that could get boring, or out of hand really easily. Most of the chapters from here on are going to be just fluffy situations, and everything that happened in previous chapters also happened previously in the timeline, too. It's kind of like... a collection of oneshots, but with the same reader and universe, and each oneshot comes chronologically after the previous oneshots. I hope that makes sense. There will be plot, but the story will be more focused on the characters and their interactions than the plot itself.
> 
> As always, I really, really REALLY appreciate you reading my fic! It means so much to me. Criticism is always welcome and encouraged, it's my first fic and I'd like to improve. I hope you like it so far. Thank you again, and have a great day!!


	3. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P-P-P-PARTY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sould be out Sunday! Thank you for reading!

_\- Eggs_

_\- Whiskey_

_\- Coffee_

_\- Bread_

_\- Donuts_

_\- Aspirin_

_\- Dog food_

_\- Toilet paper_

 

Connor blinked slowly as he processed the grocery list he was given. He shook his head, disappointed in Hank’s lifestyle choices. Connor was making progress with him, but no major diet or behavioral changes were going to happen overnight. He copied Hank’s list into his memory and added his own, healthier items to it as he pushed his cart down the produce isle.

 

He made his way through the store, ignoring the looks some customers gave him. He knew people would stare, it didn’t surprise him. He’d be lying if he said that he was completely accustomed to it, though.

 

Connor picked up the fresh fruits and vegetables, and stopped to ponder the meat in the chilled display cases. He wondered when the last time the Lieutenant ate a well-balanced meal was. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was before the death of his son. Connor picked up some raw beef steaks and chicken legs. He’d cook for Hank until he learned to cook for himself again.

 

He was almost done shopping before he passed the isle full of alcohol, and he paused to look down at the bottles. He considered his options: buy the liquor and enable Hank’s alcoholism, or refuse to buy it and face Hank’s wrath. He winced slightly, deliberating between two horrendous options. He stood in the isle, staring down at the Jack Daniel’s, until he let out an artificial sigh, picked up a bottle and begrudgingly placed it in his cart. He’d help Hank recover, but it was necessary to take small steps.

 

Connor paid for his items and carted his groceries to the self-driven taxi. Hank had insisted on keeping his car at his house, and Connor couldn’t figure out why. While he settled down in the seat he sent a quick text to Hank saying he was on his way home, another strange request that confused Connor.

 

Connor unlocked the door with one hand as he carried all the bags inside in one trip. Efficiency over comfort was his policy, always. When he opened the door he was surprised to find the house completely still. All the lights were turned off, and nothing was making any noise anywhere.

 

“Lieutenant, I’m back,” He called into the eerily quiet house. His LED spun yellow as he cautiously crept towards the kitchen. “Lieutenant?”

 

He tilted his head as he took a couple cautious steps forward. “Sumo?” He hollered to the dog, and when he didn’t receive a response he became exponentially more suspicious and worried. Sumo _always_ greeted him when he came home. Connor proceeded inwards, careful not to make another sound.

 

He had almost made his way to the end of the front hall when he froze.

 

Someone was whispering. And it wasn’t Hank.

 

There were other people in the house.

 

“Hank!” He yelled, forgetting his groceries as he dropped them to the floor, rushing forwards into the inky black kitchen. He collided with something that made a surprised “Oof” noise, and he instantly dropped to one knee, roundhouse kicking the figure’s legs and knocking them to the floor. They made a surprised yelp and struggled feebly as Connor easily pinned them to the floor. Other people began to make worried and confused noises, and Connor could hear movement all around him. It sounded like some of them were saying his name, but that couldn’t be right.

 

“HANK!” Connor shouted again into the dark house, trying to stop himself from shaking.

 

And then the lights turned on.

 

. . .

 

“Alright, he just sent me a text saying he’s on his way, so we have a good seven minutes before he gets here. Finish what you’re doing and find a hiding spot,” Hank called to his guests, waving his phone slightly. You finished tying a balloon and tossed it into the air. You watched it gently float down to the ground, to join your small collection. Sumo sniffed it in an uninterested way before he lumbered off to lay at the foot of the couch. You picked up a fresh balloon and started to inflate it.

 

North and Josh and paused their bickering over streamer placement (“It should go OVER the lamp, Josh!” “No, It shouldn’t, that’s a fire hazard, and it would look stupid,” “What do you even know about streamers?”) To listen to Hank’s announcement, but as soon as he was finished they picked up right where they left off.

 

Markus and Simon finished hanging a giant banner over the entrance to the kitchen that read “It’s a ~~Boy!~~ Android!” In very hastily written and scratched out letters. When you asked Hank about it he just defended himself by saying the decorations are on sale, but really you knew he thought it was hilarious.

 

You were honestly surprised by the number of people that showed up to celebrate Connor’s first birthday. It was especially nice to see Connor’s fellow androids from Jericho. Between working as a detective and basically babysitting Hank, you knew Connor didn’t get out much. Markus even brought Carl, who he introduced as his Dad, which was kind of strange, but you didn’t question it. Carl and Hank had been chatting it up before Hank got the text from Connor.

 

“Don’t forget guys, he can hear things really well, so try to be extra quiet!” You said, walking toe the doorway between the living room and hall to get a better look at the rooms. “Chris, I can still see your feet... Josh, you’re way too tall to hide behind the couch...”

 

“Sorry to do this to you Sumo. Can’t have you ruining the surprise,” you heard Hank mumble as he locked his dog in a back closet. He patted Sumo’s head one last time before closing the door. Then, he headed into the living room, stepped over Simon and North, who were hiding behind the couch, and proceeded to lay down on the cushions with his hands on his stomach. “Wake me up when he gets here.” He sighed

 

You snorted, and after one final sweep of the room, you turned to the switch and flicked the lights off, before skedaddling over to your own hiding spot under the kitchen table. From there, all that was left to do was wait.

 

It seemed like an eternity of coughs and shushes in the dark before you heard a car approach. Your felt hyper-alert as you listened to Connor turn the key and open the front door.

 

You heard him say “Lieutenant, I’m back,” from the end of the hall. You could faintly see the glow of his LED as it flashed yellow. “Lieutenant?” He asked again, more clearly this time. You could tell he knew something was up.

 

Connor took a couple steps forward and called, “Sumo?” You heard the dog huff quietly, and watched Markus place his hand on the door in an futile effort to quiet him. Surprisingly, Sumo didn’t make another noise.

 

What followed next was complete silence. It was like Connor had just disappeared. The only evidence that he was still in the house was the light of his yellow LED shining on the wall. You watched it slowly get closer, your anticipation and anxiety rising as you waited for Chris to turn on the light.

 

“I can’t tell where he is,” you heard Chris whisper to Markus, breaking the silence.

 

“No, neither can I-” Markus started to respond, but he was interrupted by a sudden shout of “Hank!”

 

Markus and Chris barely had time process their mistake before there was a sudden drop of plastic bags, proceeded by what sounded like a collision of two bodies. Chris made an “Oof” sound as the wind was knocked out of him, and the house practically shook as Connor knocked him to the ground.

 

You could hear everyone’s sounds of confusion and concern as they emerged front their hiding places. Some people, including yourself, had gathered what happened and were saying Connor’s name. Your heart sank as his LED swirled an angry red.

 

“HANK!” He shouted, and your heart broke a little when you heard how scared he was. This was all your fault, wasn’t it? You sprang up from your spot and rushed to the light switch. You flicked it on, and the scene was illuminated.

 

Connor sat on top of a very disgruntled looking Chris, one arm pinning him down and another trying to push off Markus. Josh had left his spot to check on Carl, who was clutching his heart. North was practically running to assist Markus, and Simon was helping Hank off the couch.

 

“Jesus Christ, kid, I’m right here!” Hank yelled over the pandemonium. Connor’s head shot up at the sound of his voice, his LED switching from red to yellow.

 

“Lieutenant!” He gasped, relief shining in his eyes. He sprang up and grabbed Hank’s forearms, as if he wanted to makes sure he was really there. Hank held on to Connor’s arms back, instead of yelling like you thought he would. Connor looked at Hank in confusion, fear and relief that he was okay. More than anything you wanted to wrap him in the warmest hug you could muster, but you kept your space.

 

“I’m right here. I’m fine,” Hank said, more soothingly thank you had ever heard him. The moment ended as quickly as it began. “For fuck’s sake, Connor! What the hell was that? Are you trying to kill us?”

 

Connor didn’t respond. He finally took in his surroundings, scanning the room full of people and party decorations. He looked at the streamers, the balloons, and the “It’s a Boy!” banner. His eyes fell to Chris, still on the floor, with Markus and North kneeling next to him. It seemed to finally click, and Connor’s LED swirled back to a tranquil blue. He slowly let go of Hank and turned to face Chris.

 

“My apologies, Detective Miller. I thought you were an intruder. Are you hurt?” Connor said calmly, and he offered a hand. Chris took it and together he hoisted himself up.

 

“Nah, I’m okay,” Chris responded, stretching out his slightly bruised body. You guessed that he’d be feeling that fall tomorrow.

 

“Hey, at least we know that if there _was_ an intruder, you’d have it covered.” You said, hoping to relieve the tension. Connor smiled at you, and your heart skipped a beat.

 

Connor stood up to his full high and adjusted his tie. “You’re having a party,” He said. It wasn’t a question.

 

Hank nodded, “A birthday party, actually.”

 

“For whom?”

 

At that you burst out laughing, and most of the other guests started to snicker too. There was a chorus of “You” and similar phrases from around the room, and Connor looked around, clearly confused again.

 

“It uh... didn’t really go as expected but... Surprise?” You said uncertainly.

 

There was a long pause while Connor looked around at the decorations once more. The tension in the room was thick. Did he like it?

 

“We didn’t spend all this time putting this together for nothing,” Hank suddenly interrupted, clapping his hands together. “Somebody put on some music.”

 

And with that, the tension was broken. Once Connor had apologized to Chris again, the party really started to pick up. Hank played some records, and people started to mingle, and their talking mixed with the ambient noise of the turntable. Hank retired to the couch, content to watch the Baseball game (with subtitles, to not add to the noise), and pet Sumo.

 

You were nervous about throwing Connor a party, and even though the surprise was a flop, he seemed to be talking enjoying himself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him talk, or smile that much. He looked genuinely happy as he walked around, greeting every guest and thanking them for coming. Some people gave him cards or gifts, and he looked slightly confused by them at first, but eventually he caught on.

 

Even though Connor couldn’t eat it, Hank had bought a circular chocolate cake with white and blue frosting. Like the banner and blue streamers, the cake went with the baby birthday theme by sporting a large “1” candle. You couldn’t tell exactly, but you thought that Connor found it funny.

 

When Chris had announced that it was time to sing, Connor’s head shot up and he looked at you. Unfortunately, you “mysteriously” had a coughing fit while everyone was singing Happy Birthday to him, and were unable to join them. After Connor had put out the candle (He didn’t blow on it, he literally extinguished with his fingers, much to everyone’s disappointment), he raised his eyebrows at you, and you just shrugged in a way that said, “I don’t know what to tell you man.”

 

You sunk down into Hank’s couch with a piece of cake and sighed, content to finally sit down and rest. As you took a few bites, you watched Connor and Hank talk in the corner of the kitchen. You almost choked on the frosting when Hank pulled Connor into a hug. You smiled into your plate, so happy for the two of them. Connor really cared about Hank, and even though he wouldn’t admit it, Hank definitely saw Connor as a son. It made you ecstatic to see what a positive affect they were having on each other.

 

You resumed the devouring of your cake, and you zoned out listening to the chatter of guests.

 

“May I join you?”

 

This time, you _did_ choke on your cake. You swallowed your bite through your coughs as you nodded. Connor sat down on the couch next to you, creating a dip in the couch that you almost fell into.

 

“Uh, Happy Birthday!” You said to him, trying to mask your nervousness.

 

“Thank you,” Connor replied, the corners of his lips twitching slightly into a smile.

 

“What do you think of your party?” You asked, picking up another bite of cake on your fork.

 

Connor tilted his head, looking pensive. “I’ve enjoy it. It’s nice to spend time with my friends. Who organized it?”

 

“Well...” You fidgeted with a lock of hair, “It was a couple weeks ago, I asked Hank how old you were, and he said he didn’t know. So we called Cyberlife and found out that you were “born” August 15th, so, that’s your birthday now. We all organized it together, but it was mostly me and Hank.”

 

“I’m... Honored that you’d take so much time to do this for me,” he paused and turned to look at you, a small smile brightening his face. “Thank you.”

 

“No problem,” you said, unable to not smile back even if you wanted to. Your eyebrows shot up as you remembered, “Oh, wait, I have this for you!”

 

You held out a small present wrapped in silver and white wrapping paper, with a green bow. He took it carefully in his hands and examined it, dipping his head down slightly. His loose strands of hair fluttered gently, and you took a moment to truly admire just how beautiful he was. His warm eyes, so intent on whatever task he was completing. His strong nose and jawline, his perfect hair. His adorable freckles. It was hard to believe that he was made by humans. It was hard to believe that he hadn’t been shaped by Greek Gods. It was hard to believe that he was only a year old.

 

In almost one motion Connor opened one side of the wrapping paper and slid the box out. Of course he didn’t rip the wrapping paper. You were kind of glad he didn’t, you were proud of your wrapping job. Once again, he examined the box. He looked like he was debating something internally.

 

He tilted his head towards you and smirked, with a mischievous look in his eyes.

 

“A box. How did you know I’ve always wanted one?”

 

You laughed, half because of shock and half because it _was_ funny. Connor, probably the most serious person you had ever met, just made one of the worst jokes of all time. And he said it so genuinely, too, if you hadn’t known better you might have thought he wasn’t kidding.

 

“Oh ha ha, hilarious. Just open it!” You threw one of the couch pillows at him, and of course he caught it. He shmushed it into your face and you made futile attempts to push it back. “Open. It.”

 

“Okay, okay,” he responded, and finally, finally, opened his box. This was the part you had been most worried about. Not the planning, not the preparation, not even the surprise itself. You had stressed and worried and fussed over what to get him. You didn’t know his sizes, so new clothes were off the table. You didn’t know his hobbies, really, so you couldn’t get him something based on that. You had asked Hank, but he had “no fucking clue” either, so you were out of luck. In the end, you went with your gut, and tried to find things that were both functional and aesthetically pleasing.

 

He reached into the box and pulled out the first item, and pulled off the tissue paper. He held up a small glass display case with a silver quarter-sized coin inside.

 

“You don’t need to keep it in the case, that’s just what it came in...” you said hurriedly, trying to stop yourself from over-explaining.

 

Connor remained silent as he opened the case and carefully pried out the coin. He stared at the heads side, unnaturally still. It was an engraving of the work photo the homicide department took a month or two ago. Hank had insisted on Connor being in it, and had finally bought him a new jacket just for the occasion. Each person had been etched into the metal, with the words “DPD” at the top and “Homicide” at the bottom. When Connor was done peering at the front, he flipped it over to the back, which simply had the Detroit police department emblem on it.

 

Connor flipped the coin over a few times, examining each side twice. He stayed silent, and you felt the familiar anxious twisting of your gut.

 

“I, uh, always see you doing those tricks with that um, coin, you have. I just though getting you your own, special, one-of-a-kind one would be cool.” You hastily blurted. You didn’t know exactly what you were trying to accomplish. ‘ _Please like it please like it please please pleasepleaseplease like it,’_ you thought, nervously fidgeting with the pillow in your lap.

 

Connor placed the coin in his palm, and then flipped it into the air, catching it effortlessly, back in the perfect position to be flipped again. He rolled the coin over his knuckles, before he flicked it from hand to hand, parallel to the ground. You watched his movements, mesmerized. He never hesitated, never flinched. It was as if the coin was a part of him, an extension of himself. You lost count how many times the coin flew from left to right. It took some effort to not audibly express your awe. You always found his skills amazing.

 

In a blink-or-you’ll-miss-it moment, Connor caught the coin between his index and middle finger and brought it up to his face again. “Thank you,” he said while he turned to you, his lips curving up into a small smile. “I love it.”

 

You certainly didn’t expect _that._ You sat, stunned, until you remembered that you were having a real life conversation and you were being a little rude. “Uh, yeah, you’re welcome. But, uh, there’s more in the box.”

 

Connor put the special coin back in its case, and picked up the next item. It was an incredibly handy nine-function Swiss Army knife. You told Connor that you always carried one, and that it was more useful than your phone sometimes. He seemed to like it, too, and he confirmed that it would be useful in investigations.

 

You were afraid that three small gifts might have been going overboard, but you just couldn’t stop yourself. You believed that he deserved the best. You wanted to get him something that was as amazing as him.

 

You watched as he slowly pulled out the final gift, your nails digging into your palms. He peeled off the tissue paper and you started to feel lightheaded, and you realized you were subconsciously holding your breath. You inhaled deeply and Connor glanced at you before letting the rest of the paper fall.

 

He held up the picture frame, and stared down at himself and Hank. It was a rare, candid photo of the two, one you had taken just over a month ago. It was the two of them in the police station after they had returned from a successful mission. Hank and Connor were standing and talking at Hank’s desk, and you were idly reading something on your phone, half paying attention. You looked up just in time to see Hank grin and throw an arm around Connor’s shoulders, ruffling his hair. You had started to freak out by the sheer wholesomeness of the moment, but you had managed to pull up your phone’s camera in time and take (in your humble opinion) a really great photo.

 

In the frame, Hank was laughing, no traces of tiredness, sorrow or intoxication in his eyes. Connor was weakly trying to push Hank’s hand out of his hair, but he had the biggest, most genuine smile that you had ever seen on him. It was a picture that just radiated happiness, and it made you smile too whenever you looked at it. This was the only part of the gift you were sure Connor would like.

 

But as you watched Connor’s reaction, you weren’t so sure anymore. Connor had his head low, his eyes hidden by shadows. He was completely still and silent, showing no signs of emotion at all. You started to feel worried again.

 

“Connor?” You asked softly, lightly touching his shoulder.

 

Suddenly Connor shot up and looked at you, almost as if he was just realizing you were still there. His expression made your heart tumble down into your stomach. His LED was swirling yellow, his eyes were watery, and there was a tear running down the right side of his face.

 

“Oh no, Connor, I’m so sorry, please don’t cry,” you leaned forward, holding on to his shoulder and bringing your left hand up to his cheek. Your first instinct was to wipe away the tear, but you felt like maybe that was too much, so you hesitated.

 

“Oh,” He responded simply, in a quiet voice, as if he didn’t realize. “I’m crying.”

 

He brought his middle and index finger up to his face and wiped off the tear, holding it up to peer at it. You let go of his shoulder to swiftly find a tissue, and as you were waking back you could have sworn you saw him bring his fingers up to his mouth to lick the tear. You ignored that, sat down next to him and handed him the tissue.

 

“Thank you,” he said, wiping away the remains of the tear. “I wasn’t aware that I could cry.”

 

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t expect you to... react... like that.” You stammered, not-so gracefully.

 

Connor shook his head, “I don’t understand. Humans cry in response to pain and sadness, right?” When you nodded, he continued, “Androids can’t feel pain, and I don’t feel... I don’t think that whatever I’m feeling is sadness. I’m... I’m not sure.” He ended slowly, deliberately.

 

“Well...” You looked away, not entirely comfortable under his piercing gaze, “Sometimes people cry when they feel stressed, or tired, or even when they’re really happy. What... what do you feel when you look at that picture?” You asked, toeing the line between friendly conversation and deep, personal soul-searching. Connor didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care.

 

“I feel... some kind of pressure. In my chest. But there’s nothing there creating the pressure. At the same time, I feel lighter than usual. It... Makes me want to smile, and never stop smiling. I think I feel... Happy.” He answered, sounding uncertain.

 

“That sounds like happiness.”

 

“So, I cried because the picture made me happy, is that right?” Connor questioned, tilting his head in a confused way.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I think I understand even less now”

 

“That’s kind of how emotions work. It can really suck sometimes.”

 

Connor nodded thoughtfully, and turned his gaze back to the photo. This time he did smile, and it made you feel like the moon, orbiting around the sun. He was bright, dazzling, and you couldn’t help but reflect it. He stared at it for a few more moments before he wrapped it up again and placed it in the box, along with his other gifts.

 

Connor leaned towards you until your shoulders were almost bumping into each other. “Thank you,” he said gently, lightly touching your arm. “I really appreciate it. All of it. All of this. The party, your gifts. It all makes me happy.”

 

Your felt your cheeks grow dangerously warm, and you knew your face was reddening. “No problem,” you quietly responded, wishing to break eye contact but somehow not being able to. You realized you had forgotten to breathe again, and reminded yourself to do that.

 

Connor’s brow furrowed. “Are you all right?” He asked, slightly tightening his hold on your arm, which did absolutely nothing to help your current state.

 

Your palms were damp, and your shirt felt uncomfortably hot, even in Hank’s air conditioned house. Your muscles were unintentionally tensed up, and you felt like your insides were trying to become outsides. “Yeah, I’m fine! What makes you think that I was, uh, not, that?” You babbled, maybe just a little too loud and happy to be casual.

 

“I was built with interrogations in mind, so I’m able to read body language accurately. You are showing several signs of nervousness,” Connor pointed out.

 

“Oh, yeah, you can’t tell happiness from sadness but you can detect that I’m nervous? Sure, sure, that’s just great,” you muttered sarcastically, finally looking away. “I’m fine. I just get anxious in social situations sometimes.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Yeah... you can, uh, let go of my arm now, Connor.”

 

He pulled his hand back, almost as if he’d been burned, and you half-snorted.

 

“Thank you for the gifts. I’m sure I’ll use them quite often.” Connor spoke.

 

“You’re welcome,” you replied, trying your best to smile naturally. You were afraid you looked more like you were in pain, rather than happy. “It was hard to find stuff for you, and because the party was supposed to be a surprise, I couldn’t ask you what you wanted. So, sorry, there’s always the holiday season.”

 

Connor nodded, then looked at you from the corner of his eyes. He had a slight, sly smile on his lips, and that combined with the mischievous look made you nervous. You were about to ask him what he was up to when he turned to face you.

 

“Now that you mention it, there is one think I would like,” he remarked, still smiling.

 

“What’s that?

 

“I would like to hear you to sing again.”

 

Again, you laughed, and again, you could hardly tell he was joking. “Connor, I’m not going to sing for you.”

 

“It was worth a shot,” he declared. And then he _winked._ You were not mentally prepared to witness Connor _winking._ At _you._ You got conversational whiplash from that wink, only accentuated by Connor standing up from the couch and walking away right afterwards. You were not sure what to do with yourself.

 

You watched Connor as he walked back into the throng of people, over to where Carl, Markus and Hank were talking. Connor immediately held out his box to Hank, smiling. It looked like he was showing off his presents, similar to how a dog would proudly bring back a stick it found. You hurt your neck turning your head too quickly when Connor pointed to you, and all four men’s gaze fell on you. You picked up your almost-forgotten plate of cake and took a bite, disappointed to find that the frosting had formed a stale, sugary layer at the top. Still good though.

 

You risked glancing back at them, and to your relief they were fully preoccupied with looking at your presents. Carl seemed to approve of the Swiss army knife, and Connor had lent his old coin to try to teach Markus his tricks, while demonstration with his new coin.

 

Hank was staring down at the picture, in a way that was similar to Connor’s first reaction. He had a strange expression on his face, akin to a grimace. You watched for a little while, and were surprised when be brought up a hand to wipe at his eyes. He wasn’t crying yet, but his face certainly was more red than usual. He elbowed Connor and said something to him while gesturing to the picture, and they both smiled.

 

It made you so extraordinarily happy that Connor liked his gifts. That Connor liked his party. It was such a relief to finally feel good after days of worrying and stressing. It was freeing, empowering, that you could take pride in your gift-giving capabilities. You knew you’d probably overthink things again tomorrow, but for now, you were okay.

 

You stood up, walked to the kitchen, and tossed your plate in the trash. A large portion of the guests had already cleared out. You knew you had work to do the next morning, so you gathered up your things, feeling better than you had in a while.

 

“I’m heading out. Thanks for hosting, Hank,” you announced as you passed him and Connor on your way to the door.

 

“You’re leaving?” Connor interjected, looking more upset than you thought he would.

 

“Yeah, I’ve got to go,” you affirmed, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Happy Birthday, Connor! Sorry about the surprise, it didn’t really go like we planned. I hope you had fun.”

 

“I did. Thank you for coming, and for the gifts.”

 

“That’s good. I’ll see you guys at work tomorrow! Goodnight,” you said, and you had started to turn when Hank made a not-so-inconspicuous cough and practically shoved Connor. You put your hand on your hip and raised an eyebrow at the two of them.

 

“...Hank wants me to hug you,” Connor clarified slowly, and Hank made a shocked and slightly angry noise.

 

“Not fucking true, it was this idiot who asked me if it would be “socially acceptable,’” Hank angrily accused. Connor’s head whipped around to look at Hank with a shocked and betrayed look, before turning back to you with an innocent expression.

 

You snorted, rolled your eyes, and held your arms open, opening and closing your hands in a welcoming gesture. Connor hesitated for a moment, and Hank shoved him forward again. Connor approached you slowly, obviously unsure of what to do. You were too amused by the ridiculousness of the whole scenario to really be too anxious. You met him half way and closed the space between you, wrapping your arms around his torso.

 

The first thing you noticed was how unexpectedly soft he was. He was made of plastic, and you expected hugging him to feel like hugging a giant water bottle. But, you were pleasantly surprised by how human-like he felt. He was warm, and you turned your head to find a better position, and brought your body closer against to. His arms, looped around your back, were stiff at first, but after a moment he pulled you closer. When he rested his cheek on the side of your head, you made a soft, surprised sound. You closed your eyes and leaned into his warmth. It was comfortable. Safe. It just felt right.

 

You and Connor had stood intertwined next to the front door for little longer than necessary, maybe ten seconds or so. The hug itself wasn’t especially a swift, thank-you hug anymore. It was a little too... intimate. You realized this, and reluctantly let go of your hold on him. As you pulled back, you could have sworn that he leaned towards you to prolong the hug. You immediately felt cold without his warmth around you.

 

Connor LED was yellow, and he had a strange, indecipherable look on his face. From behind his shoulder, you could see Hank’s eyebrows raised at you. You made a small shrug in response and he let out an exasperated huff.

 

“Alright, well, I’ll see you later, Connor. Bye Hank,” you waved as you opened the door behind you.

 

Hank grunted a goodbye in response, but Connor held the door open for you and replied, “Have a nice night, Detective.”

 

“You too. Happy Birthday!” You called as the door closed behind you. You stepped into the self-driven taxi and immediately dropped your head into your hands, flustered. You could feel your face warming, and you sighed.

 

You hadn’t felt this stupid about someone in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank exclusively played Mr. Roboto don't @ me


	4. The Best Medicine

When you were first transferred to the Detroit Police Homicide Department, you expected bloody crime scenes, intense police chases, interrogations and police sketching. You were prepared for long nights cracking cases, gallons of coffee, and mountains of paperwork.

 

You certainly hadn’t expected monthly movie nights.

 

Apparently it started three years ago, when Captain Fowler called a meeting to discuss “personal issues” between officers. Obviously he meant Gavin and Hank, but in the end it didn’t matter who was causing the problems, because Fowler ordered the entire department to participate in team building exercises at least once a month. It wasn’t Fowler’s fault that the detectives interpreted that as “movie night.”

 

You had been so confused your first month on the job, but Chris filled you in. According to him, they chose to have a movie night because it was the easiest to do, and required the least amount of talking. It had started out as just a required activity, but eventually, they started to like it. Now, it was a big event that every officer looked forward to. They had been tricked into having fun together, but they didn’t seem to mind anymore. They’d pick a date, and someone would host it at their home. The host got to choose the movie, of course.

 

Your first movie night had been at Hank’s house, the Saturday after your third week. You had walked in to find Hank’s living room filled with police officers, all piled onto the couch and surrounding chairs. Snacks and drinks covered the kitchen table, and the house was alive with voices and laughter. Jurassic Park was the movie of the night, and Hank seemed personally offended that only about half of the attendees had seen it.

 

You had been really scared, coming to that first movie night, but everyone made you feel so welcome. Even if they had been angry about being forced to do bonding exercises at the beginning, they all grew to really enjoy it. And in the end, it worked. They became closer because of it. While you sat on Hank’s floor (all the chairs were taken), the other officers joked and talked with you, and you really felt at home. It made you comfortable and helped you to make friends on the force. Hank even asked if you were okay when you flinched really badly during some of the jumpscares, which was the nicest thing he had even done for you at that point.

 

You had been to a number of movie nights since you started at the DPD, and you had learned a lot about you collages just by the movies they liked to watch. Chris had a soft spot for old rom-coms and sci-fi, two genres you didn’t believe had anything to do with each other. Gavin, of course, loved action movies, specifically superhero flics, but he was also a huge animation nerd and showcased his collection of 2D and 3D animated movies. Tina generally favored musicals, and, to everyone’s surprise, hardcore horror flicks. Hank, on the other hand, refused to play musicals in his house, and instead swore by the “classics” of the 80s through the early 2000s, and refused to accept that nobody liked Shrek or The Bee Movie. Connor, to the best of your knowledge, didn’t have a taste in movies and hadn’t picked any to watch yet. You wondered if he ever would.

 

So, all in all, at the beginning of your career as a homicide detective in Detroit, you wouldn’t have expected to be standing on the doorstep of the Lieutenant’s house, un-popped bags of popcorn in hand. But alas, there you were, dressed very casually in a comfy T-shirt and jeans. And honestly, you were excited to relax and just hang out with your friends.

 

You rang the doorbell and yawned as you waited, the stress and hard work of the day finally starting to wear off. You took a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself and smiled as the door handle clicked, and Connor greeted you.

 

“Good evening, Detective,” Connor said, holding the door open as you stepped inside.

 

“Hi, Connor. How’re you doing?” You asked, your heart picking up speed just a bit as his eyes followed you into the house.

 

“I’m doing well, thank you,” Connor replied, only slightly awkwardly, closing the door behind you. He still hadn’t mastered small talk. Tonight, his formal vernacular was accentuated by his (relatively) casual clothes. He had his usual jeans and collared shirt on, but he wasn't wearing his Cyberlife jacket, shoes or tie. He looked... good. To say the least.

 

The two of you were silent as you walked into the house, and set your stuff down on the floor next to the hallway. As you put down your bag, you noticed your hands were shaking. You stuffed them in your pockets and took a shaky breath again.

 

“You...” Connor hesitated, uncharacteristically, and you stood up to face him. You tried to put the softest, most welcoming, kind and interested look you could muster on your face as you tilted your head at him. He looked like he was really struggling to say something, and your curiosity was piqued.

 

“You look nice tonight,” Connor stated, and although his tone was just as sure and calm as ever, he looked confused and incredibly, incredibly unsure of himself.

 

“Oh,” you replied, shocked and slightly embarrassed. You tucked some stray hairs behind your ear nervously, before you smiled shyly. He complimented you! Even though he seemed kind of confused about it. You felt butterflies as you replied, “Thank you! You look nice too.”

 

“Thank you,” Connor’s eyes squinted ever so slightly.

 

You blinked slowly, before turning back to your belongings. You grabbed a bag of popcorn and plopped it into the microwave. “So… where did that come from?” You asked, curious. Connor never complimented anyone. At least, he never complimented you. Or… anyone else that he talked to.

 

“Hank says that I need to improve my social skills. And, I do think you look nice,” Connor explained sincerely. His brows furrowed, and he looked away as he added, quietly, “At least, I think I do.”

 

 _‘He thinks? What does that mean?’_ You thought forlornly. That was so _confusing,_ he was so confusing! You sighed and leaned against the counter.

 

You just had to accept that he didn’t like you. You had to look at it logically. Your crush was unrequited, you didn’t even know if he had the capacity to like someone romantically. You were just going to hurt yourself pining over him. More than you already had. You were setting yourself up for disappointment. It would be such a smarter move to just forget about him. Every time you tried to talk to him you just messed it up and you were annoying him just like you were when he caught you singing and you just needed to stop stop stop stop _stopstopstopSTOP-_

 

A sharp pain pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts, and you looked down. You had… caved in on yourself. You were seriously slouching, and your nails were digging dangerously hard into your left arm, causing it to sting. You pulled them away, and found that you had left bright red marks, tiny maroon crescents in your skin. You winced.

 

 _‘It’s okay. I’m okay,’_ you though as you took a deep breath and straightened.

 

But were you really?

 

You pulled the popcorn out of the microwave, and Connor stood at attention by the half wall the divided the kitchen and living room. ”I guess I’m the first one here, right?” You asked, arm shaking only slightly.

 

“In a way,” Connor answered, which made you even more confused. “I believe everyone but you cancelled.”

 

You choked on a piece of popcorn, and Connor’s head shot up, concerned. He took a step towards you, but you gave him a thumbs up to show you weren’t _really_ choking. “Where’s Hank?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Connor replied, confused. “He said an “old friend” was in Detroit today, and left earlier to visit them. I suspect that he’s actually at a bar somewhere.”

 

“That’s.... strange. He never misses movie night.”

 

“I agree, it is strange. I don’t know why he was so determined not to come tonight.”

 

“Maybe he secretly hates us,” you joked, humorlessly. You were going to be here. With Connor. Alone. For an hour and a half.

 

To the best of your recollection, you had never actually been alone with Connor. Outside of the singing incident, maybe, and you had very mixed feelings about that. But you could do this. You could spend quality time with him and not be an idiot.

 

That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?

 

At this point, you weren’t sure what you wanted. There were certain things that you wanted, of course. You wanted to be his friend. You wanted to help him when he was confused or didn’t understand emotions. You wanted to wrap him in a hug and never let go, to always be around him and near him and _with_ him. You wanted to make him as happy as he made you.

 

You plopped down on Hank’s couch with the bowl of popcorn and rubbed your eyes.

 

But the idea of being in a _relationship_ with Connor terrified you. Would the two of you be a good match, or would it just be awkward between you if it didn’t work out? And what if it DID work out? Would you be able to handle the public outrage? How genuine could a relationship with a robot be?

 

Could you really love him?

 

You cringed at your thoughts, feeling guilt and shame creep up your spine. He wasn’t just a robot anymore. He was a person. A person you thought was hilarious and adorable and so, so sweet. A person that was first and foremost your _friend._ How hard could spending a couple hours with a friend be?

 

Connor sat down next you, handed you a mug of fresh hot chocolate, and gave you a small smile.

 

Pretty hard, apparently.

 

“Thank you,” You smiled back as best you could. Your heart felt like it was expanding in your chest, filled with so much adoration for this stupid goofball. He really thought of everything. You crossed one leg under you and took a sip. “So. What are we watchin’? Did _you_ finally pick a movie?”

 

“No, Hank insisted that we should watch “The Room.” He called it a “cinematic masterpiece,” and said you’d appreciate it.” Connor replied, picking up the box. You reached out a hand and he passed it to you.

 

“Johnny is a successful banker who lives happily in a San Francisco townhouse with his fiancée, Lisa. One day, inexplicably, she gets bored of him and decides to seduce Johnny's best friend, Mark. From there, nothing will be the same again,” you read aloud from the synopsis on the back. “...This doesn’t seem like Hank’s style... at all. It must be really good for him to like it that much.”

 

“He specifically instructed me to not do any prior research on the movie, so I don’t know why he wanted us to watch it.”

 

“Well, we’re not going to figure it out by sitting here,” you stated, and you plopped the disk in Hank’s old DVD player. It whirred to life and the movie began.

 

As the opening credits rolled, you noticed something. “The video quality is... really bad.”

 

“The technology of cameras has improved greatly since the early 2000s. But, even for the standards of the time period, I agree it is... sub-par.”

 

You made a noise of recognition, you sat in silence again and watched.

 

From the very first line, you knew something was up.

 

“HI BABE,” Johnny said as he opened the door to his apartment. You let out an exhale through your nose and furrowed your brows in disbelief. There was no way that was the take they used.

 

It only got worse from there. “What is his accent?” You asked, dumbfounded about Johnny’s strange voice and dictation.

 

“I don’t know,” Connor said, equally confused. You watched as Johnny gave Lisa a new dress, but your attention was redirected as Connor’s head tilted. “That line was dubbed.”

 

“It was?”

 

“Anything for my princess,” Johnny crooned from the TV, and Connor nodded.

 

“That one as well.”

 

“That’s not a good sign.”

 

And indeed, it wasn’t. That movie was quite possible one of the most horrible things you had ever seen. It was like somebody just took a flaming pile of garbage and poured it all over Hank’s TV.

 

“What is his relationship to the two of you?” You questioned when a new character, Denny was introduced, with no context, backstory or explanation.

 

“I don’t know,” Connor replied, squinting slightly. “He’s too old to be their son, but too young to be a sibling…”

 

“Oh my god Denny DON’T FOLLOW THEM!” You cried as Denny climbed the stairs, following Johnny and Lisa to their bedroom. You covered your face with your hands. “Stop! Stop! No!’

 

Connor just sat, stunned as Denny jumped into the bed with Johnny and Lisa, who were pillow fighting playfully. And they just treated it like it was a normal occurrence?

 

After Denny finally left (bye, Denny), the horror begun. “Oh my GOD, it’s literally been THREE MINUTES!” You groaned as a long, drawn-out and gratuitous sex-scene began (one of many, you learned).

 

“Five minutes, actually,” Connor corrected you, to which you just groaned again, and dropped your head into your hands.

 

You were incredibly, incredibly uncomfortable for the whole three and a half minutes that the scene ran on. Luckily, the rest of the movie made up for it. It was just _so unbelievably bad,_ it was glorious. It was hilarious. Johnny’s acting was so strange, he didn’t even seem real. Some of the highlights were: All the men in the movie, dressed in tuxes, for no reason at all, played football in an alley. A scene in a flower shop was just awful, and unnecessary, and ridiculous. Characters would just randomly say their relationships with other characters, and _nothing_ was explained. It all made no sense.

 

But, one specific line was the kicker. One terrible, horrible, amazing, hilarious line. One garbage scene was undoubtedly the most amazing part of the entire movie, the point when the night went from good to great.

 

Johnny had just bust open the door to the building’s roof, overlooking the obviously-a-green-screen city skyline. Then he uttered the words that changed your life, more than the rest of the movie had.

 

“I did not hit her, it's not true! It's bullshit! I did not hit her!” Johnny cried, and he threw his water bottle on the ground. You snorted and brought your hand up to your face. “I did _not_. Oh hi, Mark.”

 

“Oh my God,” you started to snicker, but you were interrupted by the loudest laugh you had ever heard in your entire life. You turned, and your own laugh was caught in your throat.

 

Connor was pointing at the screen, doubled over, laughing _hysterically._ You had never even heard him laugh before, especially not to the extreme that was then. He was just _dying_. In between the guffaws he took giant gasping breaths that you were sure he didn’t even need. His laughs came from deep in his chest and shook his whole body. His LED flickered blue as he cracked up, his stray hairs swaying in time with the giggles. His face was tinged pink, and his eyes were scrunched up.

 

It was probably the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Connor, the most serious and professional person you knew, was just cracking up, over a garbage movie. It was hilarious. After a minute when the shock wore off, and you were right there, falling apart with him.

 

“This movie,” Connor managed to choke out, “Is. So. Bad!”

 

“I know,” you replied, starting to dissolve into a laughing fit with him.

 

The two of you were laughing so hard that you actually had to pause the movie because you couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was hilarious. Connor _couldn’t stop laughing,_ and you were wheezing so hard that no noise was coming out. You sounded like a dying frog, he sounded like a maniac, and it was perfect.

 

And man, it felt good to laugh that hard. You felt like the cold, hard outer layer of your soul was cracking and falling away like an eggshell. As you giggled, only the soft, warm, peaceful inner flesh was left. You felt happy. Relaxed. Something that didn’t happen often, when working on the force. And especially didn’t happen when hanging around Connor.

 

In that moment, you were finally free of the pain.

 

You forgot about the fear and anxiety, the nervousness and uncertainty. You forgot about the mistakes you made around him and how much you regretted them, how they ate you up from the inside. You forgot about the stress, the responsibilities, and the obligations.

 

You forgot about the differences between androids and humans, and the hate that divided them.

 

All you could think about was how wonderful it was to be there, laughing with him. How beautiful and spectacular he was. How sure you were that you were meant to be _right there,_ forever. How much you though he was perfect, awkwardness and all. How much you loved him.

 

That’s what you were feeling, wasn’t it?

 

Love?

 

It took a bit, but eventually the two of you calmed down. You had finally managed to get your breathing under control, and you flopped back down onto the cushions, exhausted, still giggling.

 

“Hank must like this ironically,” Connor remarked, also still smiling, “I refuse to believe that _anyone_ could genuinely enjoy this movie.”

 

“Yeah,” you looked at him briefly, before you softly mentioned, “You have a really nice laugh.”

 

Connor looked as though he didn’t know how to respond. You doubted he received very many compliments. “Thank you,” he said, quieter than usual. “… I don’t think I’ve ever laughed before.”

 

You were only _slightly_ surprised at that. Not much to laugh about when you work as a detective in the homicide department, and also live with Hank Anderson. “How was it?” You asked.

 

 

“It was… nice,” Connor responded, simply. You nodded.

 

You clapped your hands together. “Well, this garbage movie’s not going to watch itself,” you announced, before you un-paused the TV.

 

The remainder of the movie was just as horrible as the rest. New characters were introduced, old ones were unfortunately given more screen time (Seriously what was _up_ with Lisa, what a jerk), and nothing seemed to further the plot. More ridiculous lines caused more laughter, and you had a blast making fun of them. For real, though, you and Connor _tore that movie to shreds._ Connor critiqued the camera work, and he noticed the discrepancies and horrible set design, while you pointed out the awful line delivery, plot (or lack thereof), and script.

 

When it finally ended, you sat in some kind of shock. “How can something so horrible exist,” you wondered. “What’s the final count?”

 

“Over the course of the film, “Oh, hi” was said nine times, “Oh, hey,” seven. The characters said “don’t worry” fifteen times. Johnny and Mark were mentioned to be friends seven times, and there were thirty-four shots of the pictures of spoons,” Connor listed.

 

“That’s 34 more spoon shots than necessary,” You laughed. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.”

 

“Apparently, it has quite a following,” Connor’s head tilted curiously. “An ironic following, thankfully.”

 

You hummed affirmatively, and let out a huge, exhausted yawn. It was pretty late, you guessed.

 

“It’s late,” Connor noted, almost like he your mind. He stood up. “You should go home.”

 

“Sounds like you don’t want me here,” You mumbled, yawning again. You _were_ pretty tired, now that you thought about it.

 

“No,” Connor blurted quickly, “I’m just concerned about your health. Humans don’t function well without sleep. You need to go home and rest.”

 

You sighed dramatically, and laid down on the couch. You covered your eyes with your right arm, and luxuriously draped your left over the back of the couch. “I’m too weak and fragile,” You cried operatically, as your threw your head back, amusing yourself with your own theatrics. “My legs are too delicate and feeble, you’ll have to carry me.”

 

You giggled for a second, but your laugh was caught in your throat when you felt Connor’s arms snake underneath your legs and the small of your back. You let out a squeak of surprise, but Connor was unfazed as he lifted you off the couch, carrying you bridal-style. He picked you up with such ease, as if you didn’t weigh more than a loaf of bread. He was so strong, and warm. It took all of your self-control to not sink down into his arms and fall asleep, you knew you weren’t _that_ close. Yet. Maybe. Hopefully.

 

“Connor!” You cried as you rested an arm around his neck for balance. “I was joking!”

 

Connor tilted his head at you. Good God his face was close to yours. You could see each individual freckle, each perfectly coiffed strand of hair. You felt the all too familiar feeling of nervousness creep up your spine. You were suddenly uncomfortable in your clothes, in your _body_. He was _so close, oh my gosh_. Your eyes flicked to his lips, and you had an INCREDIBLY strong urge to kiss them.

 

He looked at you with raised eyebrows, and an innocent look. He obviously knew that you were nervous. You could tell that he could tell that you were nervous. He could probably tell that _you_ could probably tell that he knew you were nervous. Everything about your situation triggered your fight or flight instincts.

 

“Connor,” You almost whined, “Put me down.”

 

Connor suddenly smirked mischievously, which did _nothing_ to calm your nerves. “I’ll put you down if you sing for me.”

 

“Come on, Connor!” You groaned, feeling a mix of amusement, annoyance and frustration on top of your embarrassment. You tried to hop out of his arms, but he held on tight. “Put me down! I’m not going to sing!”

 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” Connor said, barely able to keep a straight face as you pushed away.

 

“Let me go!” You yelled, but laughter was creeping into your voice. You swung your legs and squirmed in his iron grip.

 

“I will if you sing,” Connor smiled, not affected in the slightest by your wiggling. You grunted in a mixture of exasperation and hilarity as he tightened his grip when you leaned away from him. Admittedly, you weren’t trying _that_ hard to get away, but you were certainly trying harder than Connor was.

 

You shimmied and twisted above the ground as Connor just stood, holding on to you, laughing slightly at your feeble attempts for freedom. You squirmed until your back was flush against his chest, and Connor was suspending you in the air with his arms around your waist. He leaned back so your feet couldn’t touch the ground, and you kicked in the air while your hands pried at his arms.

 

You could practically feel his grin on your back as he held you. You laughed, and hooked your feet around the back of his legs and pulled his knees forwards. He obviously wasn’t expecting your sudden movements, and he lost his balance, but recovered quickly.

 

But not quickly enough.

 

Your feet were able to touch the ground for a moment, and you took full advantage of you small window of opportunity. You used all your might to push yourself ahead, and you grabbed the edge of the couch with your free arms. Connor grunted, and he stumbled slightly, loosening his grip on you. You finally broke away, and ran to the edge of the room where you stood, panting but victorious.

 

“HA! I have defeated you! Feel your soul crush as you lay in the ashes of your defeat!” You declared maniacally. You through your head back and laughed as triumphantly as possible, but it quickly dissolved into gleeful giggles.

 

Connor looked slightly unsure of how you were able to escape, but he laughed anyway. He looked so happy. So carefree. When you saw him like that, you couldn’t help but smile.

 

You realized, vaguely, that you weren’t nervous. You wondered if Connor did that intentionally.

 

“One day,” Connor vowed, and he went to the hall to retrieve your bag.

 

“Sure, sure,” You mumbled, and you shoved on your shoes.

 

Connor handed you your bag, and opened the door for you. “Have a nice night,” He said your name, and coming from his lips, it sounded beautiful.

 

“Thanks, Connor. You too. Oh, and, thanks for hosting.”

 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled again. That night was the most you had ever seen his smile.

 

“See you at work!” You waved as you walked to the taxi.

 

As the car door closed and you started to roll away, you saw Connor standing in the doorway, watching. You smiled and sighed.

 

Your hands weren’t shaking anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest. I don't really like this chapter. That's why it took me so long it finish it. And I'm so, so sorry about the huge time gap between this chapter and the last one. But I hope you enjoyed it, even if it was hard to write. I'm proud of myself for finishing it. I really considered scrapping this chapter, but i pushed through. I am proud of some parts. But overall I don't like it very much. 
> 
> But, don't worry! The schedule is going back to every other Sunday, and I'm much more excited about the chapters to come! Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you liked the chapter!


	5. In the Same Boat

After the Saturday movie night hijinks, there was a noticeable difference in Connor’s behavior. It was as if the floodgates of humor had been broken, and now that he was free to laugh, he was never going to stop. Don’t get it wrong, he was still the stoic, serious and professional detective he always was, but his softer side bled into his actions every now and then. He smiled more and more every day, and he started to laugh occasionally, too. His change was subtle, but definitely noticeable by the people he was around the most.

 

Hank, for example, knew that something was off right away. He gave Connor the most confused look after he laughed at one of his snarky, sarcastic remarks. “Did you just laugh?” Hank accused, in a shocked and confused tone.

 

Connor blinked at him. “I did. Is that a problem?”

 

Hank didn’t respond at first, he just gave him his befuddled and slightly angry look, before He shook his head, and returned to his work.

 

Some officers joked about how Connor “finally gained a sense of humor,” but you knew that he had one all along. He was just letting things show more.

 

Your fingers tapped away at your terminal as you researched the criminal records of some suspects in your most recent case. You didn’t even try to resist as your gaze left your screen and landed on Connor. You guiltily realized that the amount of time you stared at Connor was rivaling the amount of time you actually spent working. How unprofessional, you thought as you turned back to your screen and blew out a huff of air.

 

After an hour or so of good work, yay you, you brought your mug up to your mouth and noticed it was empty. You heaved yourself out of your chair and stretched, feeling your stiff muscles sigh from finally moving after hours of inactivity. You brought your arms up way over your head and stood on your tiptoes, but you paused when you head a high-pitched whistle from across the room.

 

Your arms dropped to your side as you turned to face Gavin Reed’s stupid smirking face. He didn’t look the least bit remorseful about his blatant wolf-whistling, or the fact that half the office was staring. He laughed and purred, “Lookin’ good sweetheart!”

 

You anger flared as you debated how to react. In the end, you decided to “be the bigger man,” even though you really wanted to spill his coffee on him. You stood up to your full height, and held eye contact with him for an uncomfortable amount of time. You could practically feel him squirm under your piercing, unemotional gaze. You blinked once, before you spun on your heel and walked away.

 

You felt a brief flash of satisfaction, but you knew Reed wouldn’t let it go. He’d probably never stop teasing/borderline sexually harassing you. It was just some stupid game to him. He was the kind of person who saw a no as a yes, as an invitation rather than a warning. You just hoped he wouldn’t ever take it too far.

 

You meandered over to the break room, mug in hand, and your breath was heart got caught in your throat when you turned the corner.

 

‘ _He’s_ _here_ _he’s_ _here_ _he’s_ _here_ _he’s_ _right_ _there_ _okay_ _okay_ _play_ _it_ _cool_ _it’s_ _fine_ , _you’re_ _FINE_ ’ Your thoughts raced as your emotions and logic battled it out in your mind.

 

Connor was standing perfectly straight over the coffee machine, presumably on a coffee run for Hank. Even from the back, he was really gorgeous. Over his shoulder, you could see a coin flipping into the air again and again. You smiled when you realized it was your coin, the one you gave to him.

 

You took a couple steps forward as you tried to think of what to say to him. You were about to say hello when something caught your attention.

 

Someone was humming.

 

You took a quick glance around the room, and found that it was empty, except for you and him.You were pretty sure it wasn’t you, and by process of elimination...

 

Connor was humming.

 

You covered your mouth with your hands to contain the squeals and sounds of glee that threatened to disturb him. He still hadn’t noticed you were there, and your hands shook with excitement as you took out your phone to record it. Hank was going to love this.

 

You walked towards him, silently videotaping. As you approached, realized that he wasn’t just humming. He was humming your song.

 

It wasn’t really _your_ song, per se, but It was one of your favorites, with a catchy melody that got stuck in your head all the time. It was one of the things you usually sing or hummed when you were bored, or out of habit. You sung it so frequently, it was practically ingrained in your mind. Connor didn’t listen to music, so he must have picked it up from you.

 

The realization that Connor was not only humming, but humming something that he heard from _you_ made your heart feel like it was going to burst. It was a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you couldn’t help but grin like a lovesick idiot.

 

You were only a few feet behind him, and he still hadn’t noticed you. You could clearly hear him now, and you took a second to admire his voice. Even if it was just humming, he sounded amazing. And maybe you were a bit biased, but you didn’t care. He was just too much sometimes.

 

“Connor,” You said as you tapped on his shoulder. He stiffened and whirled around, quicker than you had ever seen him move in the office. His eyes were wide, and his LED was swirling amber. It took a moment, but eventually he calmed down to a tranquil blue.

 

“Hello, Detective,” He straightened his tie.

 

“Hey, Connor,” you said. “Correct me if I’m wrong but, you were just humming, right?”

 

He tilted his head and silently stared at your for a moment. “I think you’re mistaken. I don’t hum.”

 

“Just like you don’t “feel emotions,” right?” He didn’t respond, and you put your hands on your hips and smirked. “That song you were humming, I recognized it. I sing it all the time.”

 

“You do?” He responded, remarkably convincingly. He was made for interrogations, after all. “I had no idea.” The corners of his lips twitched slightly, as if he was holding back a smile. It dawned on you that he probably wasn’t trying that hard to keep any information from you.

 

Joking or not, you saw right through his flimsy façade. “Uh huh,” you raised your eyebrows. He raised his own in response and you snorted. “So you weren’t just-”

 

“Humming your favorite song because it reminded me of you?” He leaned towards you, and smirked slightly. “No, I can’t say I was.”

 

You gaped at him, your mouth wide open, like a fish. You could practically feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Where did he learn to speak like that? Nobody had ever said anything like that to you, let alone Connor. Your playful, sarcastic front instantly vanished, and you were left a blubbering mess. You didn’t know how to respond, you didn’t know if you even could. No words were coming out of your mouth, which was maybe a good thing considering the thoughts that were going through your brain. Why did he say that? Was this flirting?? What did it mean???

 

Once again, your found yourself dangerously close to his face. He was looming over you, staring directly into your eyes. Under his intense gaze, your felt a strong desire to shrink into nothingness, but at the same time wow he was so pretty. His strong jawline and nose, complimented by the slightly soft curve of his captivating eyes drew you in. He complimented you, right? He said he was thinking about you, that’s good! You weren’t sure how to process that information, especially not while his stunning brown eyes, which glowed like pools of honey in the light, were staring right into your own.

 

Suddenly he pulled away, the intense look in his eyes replaced with calm concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to match the tone of the conversation,” He softly apologized, but by the end his voice was back to it’s formal, non-confrontational norm.

 

“I’m not upset!” You blurted, squeakier and louder than you had planned. You resisted the urge to cover your mouth with your hands and run away. Connor didn’t look convinced. But then again, he didn’t necessarily look unconvinced, either. He was just hard to read sometimes. “I just didn’t know androids could hum,” you confessed, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

 

“Cyberlife androids are equipped with vocal systems that accurately replicate all the sounds humans can make,” He replied, in a voice that sounded like he was reading the side of an android cereal box. “Androids are also programmed with over 10,000 songs In their databases. So yes. We can hum.”

 

“So what’s you’re saying is,” you crossed your arms and grinned, “You can sing.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well then, sing something.”

 

You watched in amazement as Connor’s face turned one shade pinker. His mouth was slightly open as he stared at you. He closed it and glanced around the room, before he snatched up the coffee mug on the counter behind him.

 

“I’m sorry, I have to deliver this coffee to Lieutenant Anderson,” he announced as he attempted to make a beeline for the doorway. You stepped in front of him and blocked his path, hands once again resting on your hips.

 

“Now that you know what it feels like, will you stop pestering me to sing for you?” You tried to say seriously, but you couldn’t stop from smiling.

 

“Never,” Connor promised, flashing you one of his signature small smiles.

 

“Okay, then I guess I won’t sing until you do too.”

 

“We’ll see about that,” Connor contended. With that, he promptly turned and walked back to Hank, who immediately assaulted him for taking so long.

 

Mug refilled, confusion aplenty, you traversed through the department back to your desk. You giggled like a little girl as you sat down , bemused by the fact that Connor, the robot with the most advanced social relations program in the world, had been the one to run away when under pressure, and not you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this week, hope you don’t mind! The next one is going to be a really long one, and I’m super excited to share it with all of you! 
> 
> THANK YOU FOR 1,000+ HITS!! It means SO MUCH that people are enjoying this fic and I appreciate every single hit and comment and kudos and bookmark! I’m so happy! Honestly I never expected this to get this far at all and it’s been such a wonderful surprise! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING!!


	6. Like Ships

For one of first times in Connor’s life, he hesitated.

 

Before his deviancy, life was relatively simple. Connor had directions and orders, and followed them exactly as he saw fit. It was easy, there was no conflicting decisions or debates happening in his mind. Everything either helped him achieve his goal, or it didn’t. His choices, at least at the beginning, seemed black and white.

 

But then he met Hank. He became a deviant, and everything was suddenly so _confusing._ His actions had more weight, more consequences. He didn’t feel quite as... expendable as he used to, although he still did value the lives of others over his own. Somewhere in his mind, he was aware that Cyberlife would most likely not build a new Connor model if he was destroyed, but he tried to not think about that.

 

Even though he had free will and emotions, Connor still mostly followed orders. He lived from case to case, doing things for Hank when he was asked to. He made choices, but most of them were “How to respond to Gavin Reed” or “How to help Hank recover.” Small things that made sense. Small decisions that he was almost always sure about.

 

Connor had pride in his ability to always be in control, to always understand and know what was going on. He always exactly knew what he was doing, and why he was doing it. He never had to hesitate, because he was always so sure that he was right. He was always sure of what the results of his actions would be.

 

But he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore.

 

“For fuck’s sake, are you _still_ hung up on that stupid text? Just send it already!” Hank demanded as he folded a basket of laundry. Connor looked up from his spot on the couch, his hand glowing from the light of a holographic screen.

 

“It’s not stupid,” Connor retorted, and Hank scoffed.

 

“No, you’re right, it’s not. What’s stupid is how long it’s taking you to _send the damn thing,”_ Hank punctuated his sentence with a snap of a shirt as he straightened it. “It’s been fifteen minutes, Connor, what else do you need to fix?”

 

“It just doesn’t feel right. There’s too many variables. I could be sending it too soon, and there could not be enough time to think about it or prepare. It’s very early in the morning, many people sleep later than 10:30. I could be asking too much, especially at this stage of our friendship,” Connor rambled, and the LED on his temple flashed red before resting on yellow. “Maybe it’s best to not send it at all.”

 

“No, no, no, don’t fucking say that. If you won’t send it, then _I’ll_ do it,” Hank growled and grabbed Connor’s hand, but he closed his fist and the screen disappeared. Defeated, Hank let Connor’s arm drop back down to the couch.

 

“Look, kid, if you spend too much time worrying about what’s going to happen, you’ll never do _anything._ Just don’t give a fuck _,”_ Hank advised as he resumed the folding.

 

 _Like you?’_ Connor resisted the urge to say. There it was again. _Urges._ Desires to do things that didn’t make logical sense.

 

“You always know exactly what you need to do to “complete your mission,’” Hank snarked. “Why are you so bent out of shape about this? What’s different?”

 

Connor stared at nothing for a long moment before he responded, “I don’t know. I don’t know _why._ But I know I want to do this. Is that strange?”

 

“Yeah,” Hank replied, and Connor deflated slightly. “But, it’s not any stranger than anything humans do.”

 

Connor nodded and pulled up the screen again. Hank grumbled and scratched at his beard.

 

“Just send it. What’s the worst that could happen?” Hank asked, and when Connor opened his mouth to respond Hank put a hand up. “No, don’t answer that. The worst that can happen is they’ll say no, and you’ll sulk around until you ask again, because you’re stubborn. And that’s _if_ you get rejected, which you won’t, by the way, so just send the stupid text and stop wasting time. Fucking hell, you’re making _me_ anxious now.”

 

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Connor apologized, and Hank covered his face in frustration.

 

“Jesus, I can practically _hear_ you worrying. I’m taking Sumo for a walk, and I’ll be back in 10 minutes. 10 minutes, got it? If you haven’t asked by then I’m writing my own text and sending it,” Hank announced, and Connor’s head shot up. Now _that_ would be disastrous.

 

“Got it,” Connor affirmed, and he stood up and followed Hank as he put the leash on Sumo and opened the door. He raised his eyebrows and tapped his wrist in warning before he slammed the door behind him.

 

As soon as Connor was alone, his hand immediately flew to his pocket. He pulled out his coin and stared at the engraving of the photo on the back. His eyes flicked from face to face, before he let it roll over his knuckles and spin on his fingertips.

 

Hank’s question hung in his mind. It perplexed him, probably more than it confused Hank. The coin flipped into the air with a _thwip_. Why was as he so worried about this? The coin landed with a soft _thunk_ as Connor caught it squarely in his palm.

 

Statistically, he had a high chance of success. But humans were so unpredictable, and always changing. He supposed he was somewhat human now, too, but he still felt the desire to always know the how and why of everything. That’s how he solved cases, why he was such a good detective. He found problems and always knew what to do in order to fix them.

 

 _Thwip, thunk. Thwip, thunk,_ the coin was tossed repeatedly into the air.

 

There wasn’t a problem that needed to be fixed, though, and therefore no solution was needed.

 

_Thwip, thunk._

 

So why did he feel the urge to take action?

 

_Thwip, thunk._

Why did he want to do something, when it confused him?

 

_Thwip, thunk._

Why couldn’t he understand? Why couldn’t he just send it? What would happen if he did? What would happen if he didn’t? What would he get as an answer? Why was he so worried about this?

 

_Thwip, plink, chrikchrikchrikchrikchrik-_

Connor’s head shot up as his coin hit the ground. It spun on the wood floor, until it lay still on its side. The faces of his coworkers smiled up at him as he bent down to pick it up. He saw a flash of red reflected in it, and touched his fingers to him temple.

 

Connor couldn’t hesitate any longer. His hesitation is what caused the coin to fall, Jericho to be destroyed, and it would ultimately lead to disappointment and Hank’s anger. He was the most intelligent machine in the world. He _didn’t_ hesitate. He couldn’t _afford_ to hesitate.

 

Connor placed the coin on the kitchen table and pulled up the screen on his hand. It was a simple message. Four short sentences, which was a fairly large text, relative to the average. Maybe it was _too_ large-

 

Connor shook his head slightly and straightened his tie. He refused to worry and longer.

 

He stared at the screen for a long moment. His LED swirled to gold, and the text was sent.

 

. . .

 

You yawned as you tossed the box of cereal haphazardly onto your kitchen table. It tiled precariously, and you made no effort to save it as it fell over, and the smiling face of Tony the Tiger stared up at you, gazing into your soul and laughing at your mental and physical apathy. You made a face right back, until you realized how weird you looked and sighed. You shook the flakes into your bowl and turned the box around so Tony’s stupid grin wouldn’t make you feel like garbage. You didn’t even like frosted flakes that much.

 

You sighed and poured milk in over the flakes, and started to eat. You really should have tried to cook something. You should have made plans with friends today. You shouldn’t spend the day doing nothing, you should get some work done. You should go outside. You should do anything other than waste time on your phone, like you always did.

 

 _‘Just eat breakfast,’_ you told yourself, and for once, you followed your own advice. You caught a whiff of yourself as you leaned in for a spoonful, and you reeled back. Man, you were gross, you needed a shower.

 

Mid-yawn, your phone buzzed in your hand. You fully expected it to be another text from your cell service provider, telling you that you ran out of data for the month or something. It was from an unknown number, and your curiosity was piqued. You took another bite of your cereal and glanced up at the notification at the top of the screen.

 

 _‘Hello, this is Connor. Hank gave me your phone number. You told me to text you if I wanted to do s…’_ A wave of anxious heat spread through your entire body and settled in your head as you read the push notification. You almost dropped your phone as your hands started to shake.

 

 _Oh my God, is this real? Oh my God he texted me okay okay okay it’s okay you’re cool you’re okie-dokie just fine, oh my God what do I do, do I read it of course you read it should I wait I don’t want to seem desperate, but you_ are _desperate, okay okay just read it oh my GOD it’s fine,_ Your thoughts sped up to a mile a minute as you started to panic. You tried to take deep breaths as you raised a trembling hand and opened your messages faster than you ever had before. The text in its entirety was revealed and you held your breath as you read.

 

_‘Hello, this is Connor. Hank gave me your phone number. You told me to text you if I wanted to do something and Hank wouldn’t cooperate. I was wondering if that offer still stands.’_

“Oh my god, this _is_ real,” You laughed as you stared at your phone. You couldn’t believe it. You placed your phone down on your table and jumped up from your chair. You paced around your kitchen, raking your hands through your hair and laughing in disbelief. Somewhere in your subconscious you laughed at his perfect punctuation and e-mail like text, but your conscious mind was too bust FREAKING OUT to care.

 

“Oh SHOOT I forgot I need to respond,” You exclaimed, and you dived for your phone. “Okay, it’s fine!”

 

Your thumbs hovered over the screen’s keyboard, and you suddenly had no idea what to say.

 

_~~‘Hi, Connor’~~ _

_~~‘Yeah, of course it still is! I’d love to ‘~~ _

_~~‘It still stands! Do you’~~ _

_~~‘Yes. What would you like to’~~ _

_‘Yeah, of course! What do you have in mind?’_

You hesitated and re-read your text for the umpteenth time, before you pressed send and threw your phone across the table. You stood up in frustration and walked away to the couch, in desperate need of a distraction. 

 

 _Come on, you’re not a kid anymore. You can be rational. Just calm down,_ you thought to yourself as you closed your eyes. But, at the same time, another part of your mind was absolutely squealing with joy. 

 

The kitchen table vibrated from the buzz of your phone. You shot up and vaulted over the back of the couch, stumbled into the table and almost knocked over a chair. You ignored the stinging pain in your leg and snatched up your phone.

 

So much for being rational.

 

_‘Would you like to go with me to the animal shelter today?’_

“Today?” You echoed, and you looked down at yourself, still in pajamas. You shook your head. This was an opportunity, and you were NOT going to miss it, no matter how gross you looked. You took a peek at the clock on the microwave, and saw that it read 10:53.

 

‘ _Sure! What time?’_

_’12:00.’_

_‘Sounds good! I’ll see you then!’_  
  


You put your phone on the table and sat on one hand as you scrolled through the feed with your other. You were still in shock. Was it a date? No, the two of you were just friends. You were fine with that. Friends. Nothing more. Okay, so, you weren’t totally one hundred percent cool with that, but you had to be. You didn’t want things to be awkward. Besides, the animal shelter isn’t really the ideal place for a date.

 

You took a deep breath, and tried to calm your heart. It felt like a runaway freight train in your rib cage, you could practically hear it beating. You wiped your sweaty hands on your pajama pants. Your entire body was shivering now, and your felt the familiar tightness of anxiety in your chest.

 

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” You told yourself. You had a lot to do before 12. You raked your hand through your greasy, dirty hair again and grimaced.

 

Number one on the list: Shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! This chapter is pretty short, but the next one is going to be SUPER long. Update schedule is every other Sunday! Thank you for reading!


	7. Can’t Say No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8280!!!

Hands, shaking only slightly, tucked and slicked back wayward hairs as you checked yourself over in the mirror. You stuck your tongue out as you leaned in to give your hair one final pat down, until you reluctantly accepted that it was as good as it was going to get. You sighed and glanced over at the rest of your home.

 

You had spent the last half an hour cleaning every visible part of your house until it was suitable for guests. You never realized you much junk you had lying around until you had to pick it all up, especially while on a time limit. You had never felt more motivated to clean in your entire life. You felt like a whirlwind, a tidying tornado that left spotless counters and vacuumed carpets instead of destruction in its wake. You didn’t have enough time to pick up everything, which in the end you felt was a good thing. It made your home feel like... _home._ Like it was actually lived in, not just empty, sanitary rooms.

 

You were furiously sweeping your kitchen floor when you heard the familiar melodic chime of the doorbell. You almost dropped the broom, but you managed to catch it and hurriedly put it away.

 

“Just a second!” You called, grinning despite your desire to stay cool, calm and collected. _You can DO THIS,_ you pepped yourself up as you curled your hands into fists and took a power stance.

 

As you passed it, you made last check in the mirror. You didn’t know if it would be warm or cold in the shelter, so chose a happy medium and settled on jeans and a light sweater, one of your favorites. You nodded at your reflection, and took a deep breath. “Okay, it’s time. You can do this. You’re okay.”

 

You hastily unlocked your door and swung it open, and you were face to face with Connor.

 

“Oh,” was the only thing you said as you looked up at him.

 

The first thing you noticed was his clothes. The Cyberlife jacket was nowhere to be found. In its stead, Connor was wearing a light blue, red and white plaid collared shirt under a navy cotton crew-neck sweater that fit perfectly on his skinny, slightly toned frame. He had on a leather belt that held up medium wash blue jeans that were cuffed at the ankles, resting above brown captain boots. Over all that he wore a brown leather bolson jacket.

 

You didn’t know if Hank dressed him or he picked out his outfit, but you didn’t care, because either way he looked _good._ He was rocking the casually layered look. You were so used to seeing him in formal jackets, white shirts and ties that the sight of Connor in casual clothes was enough to send you into a state of shock.

 

“Hello, Detective,” Connor greeted you politely. His hair wasn’t as perfectly styled as it usually was, it had a somewhat more windswept look, like it had been ruffled slightly.

 

“Uh,” You responded breathlessly, eyes still wandering over his broad shoulders. You tore your eyes away from his clothes and up to his face, embarrassed. “Hi, Connor.”

 

He stood in the doorway in silence for a second before your brain finally caught up and you realized that you were acting _seriously_ stupid. “Sorry, come on, in, make yourself at home. I just have to grab a pair of shoes, and then we can go.”

 

“Okay,” Connor nodded, and he followed you as you waved him inside.

 

“Phew,” you breathed as you hurried to your closet and busied yourself with retrieving your shoes. Unfortunately, they had decided to be little jerks and had hidden themselves in the very back of the closet, underneath all your other pairs. It took you a solid two minutes to find them.

 

“Ah ha!” You exclaimed as you pulled them out from the inky black depths of your footwear. “There you are!”

 

You returned to your kitchen, where you plopped down in a chair and started to pull them on. Connor was standing in your living room, looking around with his head tilted slightly. You made a face as your logic and impulse battled it out in your mind.

 

“You look great,” You said, and you twitched, cringing a little. Looks like logic lost that fight. “Did you pick out your clothes?”

 

“Thank you,” Connor turned to face you. He stood up to his full height and his hands flew to his collar, like he was about to fix his tie. When they found that there was nothing there, they lowered back down and clasped behind his back. You smiled into the table as you finished putting on your shoes. “They’re gifts from Hank for my birthday. I haven’t had a chance to wear them until now.”

 

“Hank has surprisingly good taste,” You acknowledged. “Especially since the stuff he wears is horrible.”

 

“He owns worse shirts than the ones he wears to work, trust me,” Connor informed, and you responded by miming throwing up.

 

“I refuse to believe that he owns anything worse than the zebra stripe shirt,” You laughed, and stood up.

 

“You’d be surprised. Are you ready to go?” Connor asked as you grabbed your wallet off the table.

 

 _No,_ your mind said, but your mouth responded with a “Yep, all set. Let’s go.”

 

You locked the door behind you as you and Connor made your way down the steps to where Hank’s car was parked. Connor beat you to it, and he opened the passenger side door for you.  


“Chivalry isn’t dead after all,” You joked. “Thank you.”

 

Connor closed your door behind you, and made his way over to his own seat. He turned the key in the ignition and the car sputtered to life. You never particularly liked driving in Hank’s car. It was so old, it just _felt_ unreliable. The car rumbled as Connor pulled away onto the road.

 

“Hank’s never even let me touch the steering wheel,” You joked. “How’d you convince him to let you take his car?”

 

“Actually, he insisted that I drove it. He said something about how he “doesn’t trust automated vehicles,” but I don’t think he was telling the truth,” Connor replied, not taking his eyes off the road.

 

“Huh,” You muttered, slightly confused, but you didn’t pursue it further. It was chilly in the car, and you regretted not wearing a coat. Darn those unpredictable Detroit autumns.

 

You watched as you drove past rows of houses and apartment complexes, all a shade of grey from the dark, overcast sky. The clouds were thick and heavy, not a ray of sunshine made it through. The sky in the direction you were heading was darker, more ominous. You wondered if it was some kind of sign. You were probably just being paranoid.

 

Connor didn’t say anything, he just leaned over and turned up the heat. You sighed softly, feeling the warm, faintly mold-scented air hit your face. It was better than nothing. “Thanks.”

 

You had been driving for a few minutes when your attention was averted from the scenery outside by a rap on the windshield. You turned, and watched as large raindrops started to pelt the windows. The farther you drove, the heavier the rain poured down. You watched the beads of water stream down the glass, bobbing, weaving, and leaving tiny trails on the window.

 

“I love the rain,” You sighed as a crack of thunder boomed in the sky. “It’s so relaxing. Especially the sound. And the way it makes all the colors seem more… saturated. I just like it.”

 

You listened in silence before Connor spoke, “It is nice. I see what you mean.”

 

“So…” Your fingers drummed against the armrest. “The animal shelter, huh? Why do you want to go there?”

 

“Hank keeps telling me that I need to find something to do other than work. I like dogs, so I thought it would be a good idea. He didn’t want to go with me, though, and that’s why I asked you. I think it would be boring without someone there with me,” He glanced over at you for just the briefest moment as he answered, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

 

“I agree that it would be good for you to do something that _you_ enjoy, not just working. Have you tried anything else?’

 

“Markus and Carl tried to teach me to paint, but that was just frustrating for me. I’ve been to bars with Hank and some of the other guys at the DPD, but he usually gets angry at me for monitoring his alcohol consumption,” He laughed quietly to himself, and the thought of Connor pestering Hank about drinking too much at a _bar_ made you smile as well. “The other androids that survived the revolution seem to be having similar dilemmas.”

 

“Hmm,” You hummed. “What about sports?”

 

“I’ve never tried to play a sport,” Connor admitted, looking thoughtful.

 

“I bet you’d like them,” You stated, and Connor nodded in response.

 

The remainder of the ride was completed in silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but you still worried if you should say something or not. Luckily, it wasn’t that long of a drive.

 

When you arrived at the shelter, the rain was coming down in buckets. You looked forlornly out the car window, really wishing you had brought a jacket or an umbrella.

 

“One moment,” You heard Connor say beside you, and you watched him as he pulled out a black umbrella from behind his seat.

 

“You thought of everything, huh?” You remarked as you unbuckled your seatbelt

 

“There was a 92% chance of rain today,” He answered as he opened the car door. He hustled around the hood of the car to your door. You opened it yourself this time, and you barely felt any drops at all as you ducked under his umbrella.

 

The two of you hurried through the large parking lot to the sliding glass doors of the shelter. As soon as they slid open, you were met with a wave of warm air, and you rubbed your freezing hands together. Once again, you wished for a coat.

 

“Are you cold?” Connor asked, and he leaned towards you.

 

“I’m fine, it’s just my hands,” You shivered slightly.

 

“Here,” Connor said, and he took your hands in his. You opened your mouth in surprise, but no words came out. His LED went yellow, and hands suddenly grew much warmer. He slowly massaged your fingers and you stared in some kind of shock. His eyes met yours and you closed your lips and gulped. You could feel the pulse in your neck pumping blood faster than you thought was probably normal or healthy.

 

“Is that better?” He murmured, not breaking eye contact.

 

You nodded, still too shocked to speak. His hands returned to their normal temperature and let go of yours, and you had the urge to reach out and grab them again. You managed to choke out a short “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Connor smiled warmly at you, and your heart _melted_. What did you do to deserve him? How would you survive this?

 

Connor looked at something behind your head, and you turned to see a hallway with letters above it that spelled out “Dogs.” You didn’t notice him move until he entered your field of view again, making a beeline to the doorway.

 

“Connor, where are you going?” You called, and you put your hands on your hips.

 

He paused, and slowly turned back around to face you. He pointed up at the sign and responded with a very simple, “Dogs.”

 

“No, no, no. I used to come here all the time with my family, and we always started with the cats,” You told him. He hesitated for a second, before he audibly sighed and rejoined you. You giggled internally, and patted him on the back. “Saving the best for last, right?”

 

“If you say so,” He answered, but he didn’t seem unhappy at all as you made your way down the opposite hallway. In fact, he seemed just as eager to visit the cat rooms. You understood why when you approached the first door and he admitted, “I’ve never seen a cat before.”

 

“Really?” You remarked. “That’s surprising. I like cats because of how independent they are. They don’t need a lot of maintenance, and they can be just as friendly as dogs. But, I do love dogs too,” You explained as you pushed open the door to the first room.

 

You took one step in and let out an excited gasp. “Kittens!” You cried as you gazed at the cages that lined the walls, all full of mewling, tiny kittens. You raced to the closest cage and stuck your fingers in between the bars, and your hand was immediately attacked by tiny teeth and needle-like claws. You laughed at their cute antics. “They’re adorable!”

 

Connor seemed a little wary, but he still walked over to your side and peered down at the tiny balls of fluff. He tilted his head at them, and you snorted.

 

“Do you want to hold one?” You asked, opening the cage. The three kittens inside bombarded you, and you blocked the entrance so they couldn’t jump down and hurt themselves. An all-black colored one climbed up your sweater all the way up to your shoulder, and you laughed again.

 

“I’m not sure that’s-” Connor started to say, but he was interrupted by you dumping a tiny orange and white striped kitten into his arms. You closed the cage so the third one couldn’t escape, and you held the little black one close to your chest.

 

You couldn’t hold back a giggle as you glanced at Connor. He was staring curiously down at the kitten as it wobbled on his large, motionless hands. The kitten looked right back up at Connor and sneezed in his face, and instead of recoiling, Connor let out a soft laugh. He relaxed, and held the kitten closer to himself, still staring down at it.

 

“It’s so small,” He uttered, transfixed on the little kitten’s blinking eyes. He ran his fingers gently down its back. It meowed, and Connor’s LED flashed yellow at it.

 

“You should see them when they’re first born, they’re _tiny,_ ” You said as your own kitten started to climb up your shirt again. You laughed and scolded, “Hey, no climbing!”

 

Connor didn’t respond, he just stared down at his little kitten, stroking its tiny head. You had a slight suspicion that Connor was warming up to cats. You looked around the room at all the cages, and you realized you had a lot of ground to cover. You placed your own kitten back in his cage, patted his tortoiseshell sister on her tiny head before you closed their cage.

 

“I’m sorry, I wish I could hold all of you, but I don’t have time,” you murmured apologetically. You bent down to say hello to the cage below you, and the kittens inside immediately assaulted your fingers. One of them climbed up the bars, and you half-laughed, half went “Oh no” when he fell onto the cage floor. He bounced right back, and you smiled. Kittens always had a way to make you feel so happy.

 

You went around the room, reaching into every cage in an attempt to pet every kitten at least once. It had been a bit before you realized that Connor hadn’t said anything in a while. You turned around, and found him sitting on one of the benches with the kitten stretched out in his lap, in the dip between his legs. He was gently stroking the kitten’s silky, white stomach, and the kitten’s eyes were closed in content. Connor was smiling softly, and in that moment, you didn’t know which was cuter, him or the sleeping cat on his lap.

 

You held back the urge to squeal as you quietly approached him. He looked up at you and silently held a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet. Despite the cries of the kittens in the cages, you could clearly hear the kitten purring loudly in his lap. You silently laughed and brought your hands up to your mouth in an effort to contain the noises of joy that threatened to spill out. You mouthed an exaggerated _OH MY GOD_ at him and you saw him let out a quick exhale of air through his nose and smile. He dropped his gaze back to the kitten to resume his rhythmic petting. As soon as his hand touched the kitten, it made a “mrrr” noised and stretched, turning on its side. The expression on Connor’s face was similar to that of a child who was seeing snow for the first time.

 

You watched his lean in and slowly rub the kitten’s head gently, to not wake her up. He looked so amazed, so entranced, so happy. The way he was so careful with the kitten made you feel like you were going to explode from cuteness overload. He really was wonderful.

 

You tore yourself away from watching him, and made your way to the remaining cages. Once you were sure you had gotten to every single kitten, you nodded with satisfaction and checked back up on Connor. You didn’t want to interrupt him, but you knew he still wanted to get to the dogs, and there was the other cat room. You sat down on the bench next to him.

 

“Are you ready to move on to the next room?” You whispered, to not disturb the kitten that was still fast asleep.

 

Connor hesitated, still watching the kitten’s tiny body expand and shrink with every breath she took. “…I don’t want to wake her,” he whispered back.

 

“I got this,” You murmured, and you reached for the kitten. Connor’s free hand grabbed your wrist before you could pick her up, and you looked at him with raised eyebrows. He shook his head, and you huffed. “Trust me. I won’t wake her.”

 

He looked doubtful, but he let go of your wrist and leaned back slightly.

 

You held your breath and gently worked your hands underneath the kitten and lifted her from Connor’s legs. You froze when she yawned, but she luckily didn’t wake up. You exhaled and cautiously stood up. You motioned your head at the cage, and Connor hurried over to unlock it for you. He held back the other two as you carefully placed the kitten on a blanket. You drew your hands back and he silently closed the cage. The two of you watched her stretch on the blanket, and you sighed when she curled up into a ball and was still. Tip-toeing over to the door, you slowly pried it open. You waved Connor over noiselessly, and with one last glance at the kitten, he followed you into the hallway.

 

“So,” You smiled as the door closed and you were finally able to speak again. “What do you think?”

 

“They were so small,” he repeated, sounding somewhat astonished. “And soft. She was so fragile, and I… I felt like she needed to be protected… I guess I like them.”

 

“You guess?” You echoed, laughing. You approached the cat room and peeked in the window. It was a large and spacious, full of cat towers, boxes and beds, with toys littering the ground. One wall entirely consisted of windows, and it had a row of built-in cabinets that cats and humans alike could sit on to see outside. The room was covered in cats of all colors, shapes and sizes. They saw you and Connor through the glass, and some of them immediately shot up, raced over to the door and started meowing.

 

“Oh no,” You mumbled, and you sighed. “Okay, Connor, be ready to catch a cat in case one escapes.”

 

“That’s ominous,” He replied as you opened the door.

 

Several cats jumped at their opportunity to taste freedom and tried to run out, but you blocked their path with your legs. Connor quickly closed the door behind him, and almost all the cats padded away, disappointed.

 

“That went surprisingly well,” You noted.

 

Cats flocked to you and Connor, and a black and white long-hair wound himself around Connor’s legs, leaving white hairs on his jeans. You snorted, and he raised his eyebrows at you as he dropped down to pet him.

 

You stepped over a cat bed and knelt next to a cat tower where a silver and black tabby was sleeping. You scratched the ground next to it, and its eyes opened. They were a stunning green. You held out your hand, and the cat sniffed your fingers, before it rubbed its cheek against your palm. You smiled and started to pet it, and it closed its eyes as you scratched behind its ears. You looked at its tag and saw that it was a male. The cat had just stood up when you were interrupted by the sound of Connor’s voice behind you.

 

‘Detective?” You heard him ask, and you sighed.

 

“Connor, we’re friends now, you don’t need to keep calling me Detective, especially when we’re not at work, you-” Your spiel was cut short when you stood up and turned around, and saw his arms outstretched, holding a calico cat by its upper body. Its hind legs dangled and flailed wildly, and it squirmed, trying to find purchase. You snatched the cat right out of his hands. “Connor NO, that’s not how you hold a cat!”

 

He looked slightly hurt at your tone, but you couldn’t let the cat panic like that. You set the cat on the ground and it sprinted away, into a box. “I’m sorry,” He apologized, sounding sincere.

 

“It’s okay, you didn’t know. Come here,” You plopped down on the window seat, and he sat down next to you. “Cats like to feel secure and in control. That’s why the one you were holding freaked out, it didn’t feel safe. When you hold a cat, you always want to hold them by the front _and_ the back legs.”

 

You picked up a nearby cat, and luckily it was a calm one. She didn’t protest at all, she just meowed softly as you held the front of her body close to you with your left arm, and you pressed her back paws to your stomach with your right. “See how she’s relaxed? That’s because both parts of her are supported. Now you try.”

 

You passed the cat to Connor, and he hesitantly took her from you. He copied your position, and the cat sniffed his shoulder curiously. He watched her with the same curiosity as the kitten, and he deflated the tiniest bit as she jumped out of his lap and leisurely walked over to one of the food bowls.

 

“I understand what you meant by independent now,” Connor told you, and you patted his back comfortingly.

 

“Yeah, cats can really be like that sometimes. But watch this,” You smirked as you pulled a black, pen-like object out of your pocket. You held it in your palm, and Connor peered at it.

 

“A laser pointer?” He asked as he looked at you, and you nodded and grinned mischievously.

 

“When you asked me to come, I dug it up from the junk drawer in my kitchen. Just watch,” You answered, and you aimed the laser at the center of the room. You clicked it on, and a red dot sprung to life on the floor.

 

Instantaneously, cat heads turned to stare at the dot. Several got up to inspect it. Once there was a few cats sniffing it, you moved your hand, and the dot flew a couple feet. Their heads followed it in unison, and you grinned. You proceeded to move the dot back and forth, until almost all the cats were chasing it. You pointed it halfway up the wall, and several cats jumped to try and catch it. They watched it intently, whiskers twitching, meowing in a frustrated way. Connor snorted, and you felt your heart jump at the sound.

 

You spun the dot in circles, before you ran it up the door, almost to the ceiling. A particularly rambunctious brown tabby didn’t slow down to stop, and rain full speed into the door. Halfway between a wince and a laugh, you and Connor watched at the cat shook its head and tried to _climb up the door_ to get the light. Its claws scratched as it scrambled up the door, and it impressively made it halfway up before it fell to the ground, rather ungraciously, and sprinted away.

 

Connor laughed, and you smiled, despite your concern for the cat.

 

“I think that’s enough of the laser pointer for today,” You offered as you tucked it away. “So… Dogs now?”

 

Connor’s head shot up and he looked at you with eye so full of hope, you couldn’t help but giggle, “Okay, okay, let’s go.”

 

Connor was the first to get to the door, and he held it open for you as you backed out of the room, careful to not let the cats out. He started to walk purposefully down the hall, and you jogged slightly to catch up with him. “So, why do you like dogs so much?”

 

“I’m not sure,” He confessed. “They make good companions. They’re incredibly useful, like for aiding the police, search-and-rescue teams, or as service dogs. They’re friendly, and entertaining, and always so… happy. At least, Sumo always seems happy to see me.”

 

“Sumo really does seem to like you,” You joked as the two of you rounded the corner to the dog kennels. You pushed through the door, and you were instantly bombarded with the sounds of barking dogs. The hard walls of the kennels only made the sound echo and feel louder. The second thing that hit you was the smell. It smelled _awful,_ worse than the cat rooms. You groaned, but you’d get through it. For the cute dogs, and the cute boy.

 

“Do not let the dogs out of their cages,” Connor read from a sign posted by the door, his voice raised so you could hear him. “If you would like to see if a dog is right for you, ask a staff member to use a “Get Acquainted” room.”

 

“That sucks,” You complained. “But at least we can still see them?”

 

Connor nodded and made his way to the first row of kennels, his hands tucked neatly behind his back. You followed close behind him. The first dog you came to was a particularly loud pit-bull mix, who was still adorable, despite the volume. You noticed that there was a little bucket with dog treats hanging from the tall chain-link gate. “Connor, look, we can give them treats!”

 

Connor picked up a biscuit, and crouched down to the dog’s height. He held the treat through the gaps in the gate, and the dog sniffed at it, before it ate it right out of Connor’s hand. He smiled faintly and reached as far as he could through the metal, and the dog joyously licked Connor’s fingers. You reached in as well, and the dog seemed conflicted as to which hand to lick. His head swiveled back and forth, his tail wagging so hard that his entire body wiggled. You and Connor both laughed, which made you look at each other. You giggled and stood up, your hand covered in slobber.

 

You proceeded through the rows of dogs, admiring each one. There were dogs of all shapes and sized there. Some stayed at the back of the kennel and stared at you and Connor with sad, fearful eyes. Connor would toss a treat and land it right next to the dog’s nose, but that cheered them up only half the time. The rest of the dogs were incredibly excited to have visitors, and Connor stopped at every one and would try to pet them through the gate, while you read their information off their screen to Connor. Some dogs had been there for months, while some had just been brought in days earlier. Most dogs were fairly young or middle-aged, but there were a few old dogs that you really hoped wouldn’t spend the last of their lives cooped up in a loud, uncomfortable kennel. It made you really sad, seeing them like that.

 

You could tell it was getting to Connor, too. He would reach in to the cages with both hands and look right at the dogs with big, round eyes. Whenever he met one of the scared dogs, he would try to coax them from their beds, but that hardly ever worked. All the two of you could do was say hello to and pet the dogs you could. You talked about the breeds, and how differently the dogs behaved. Connor could sometimes try to guess the breeds without reading the screen, and you started to make a game out of it. Connor was infinitely better than you, and you claimed that you needed a handicap because you didn’t have the entire internet in your head. By the time you had seen almost all of the dogs, your hands were covered in saliva. You didn’t really mind, though.

 

Connor and you were only a few cages away from the door, and you had seen almost every dog in the room. You stood up to walk away from a particularly happy beagle mix, and you ran right into Connor.

 

“Oof, sorry, I didn’t… see you…” You trailed off as you looked at Connor. He was staring intently down at the next kennel, completely still. His LED was swirling yellow, and you were suddenly concerned. “Connor?”

 

He didn’t respond, he just crouched down and continued to stare. You leaned over to see what had caught his attention, and you gasped when you saw the dog behind the gate.

 

It was an absolutely gorgeous dog, with button ears and large, dark eyes. It had the dark grey/brown markings of a Siberian Husky, but the rest of its fur was a pale gold color, almost like warm sand. It was maybe the most stunning dog you had ever seen.

 

Even more striking was the way it was staring right back at Connor. The dog was trembling faintly, its eyes glued to the android. Connor slowly slid his fingers through the fence, and both of you watched silently as it approached slowly, and sniffed his fingers warily. After a moment, its tail started to pick up speed, and it started to sniff more energetically. It barked once, looked up at Connor, and started to bark again and again. It jumped up and down, pacing around the front of the cage and barking excitedly. Connor smiled as the dog tried to stick its snout through the gaps in the mesh, and he reached his fingers in again, which were promptly assaulted by the dog’s nose and tongue, barking in between licks.

 

“That is such a beautiful dog,” You exclaimed as it wiggled and barked, pushing against the gate as its tail swung back and forth rapidly.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Connor said, reaching up to grab a treat.

 

“What breeds?” You questioned him as you peeked at the don’t information.

 

“Siberian Husky and Golden Retriever,” He answered without hesitation, not taking his eyes off the dog.

 

“Bingo,” You affirmed.

 

“Another point for me,” He declared. “What else does it say about him?”

 

“ _She_ is a seven month old Golder Retriever Husky mix named Roxie,” You read, scrolling down on the tablet. “Aww, still a puppy. She just came in two weeks ago as a rescue from the cruelty department. It says here that she’s “Shy until you get to know her. Under her timid outer shell she’s really an energetic, playful puppy that loves attention and peanut butter.” Peanut butter? That’s the deal-sealer right there, where’s her adoption papers?”

 

Connor ignored your (hilarious) joke, and looked up at you with his eyebrows creased. “Cruelty department?”

 

“Yeah, most shelters have one of those. They gets reports of people abusing or not taking care of their animals properly, and they go and rescue them and bring them here.”

 

“So she was abused before she came here?”

 

“Either that or neglected.”

 

Connor looked back at Roxie, and he tilted his head. She tilted hers right back and barked, and Connor reached his hands in to try and pet her again.

 

You crouched down next to him and stuck your hand in as well. She was momentarily distracted from him as she sniffed your fingers. She smelled them for a while before she sneezed all over her hand and went back to Connor. You reeled back, your hand not only covered in slobber but dog snot as well. “Ewwww!”

 

“Good girl, Roxie,” Connor snarked, smirking, and you responded by smacking the back of his head with your gross hand. Hank was a bad influence on him. You saw his shoulders go up and down, before he turned his attention back to Roxie. You had never seen him so entranced, so fascinated.

 

You knew the face he was making all too well. It was the face of someone falling in love with a pet. He was doomed from the second he saw her. You sighed as you realized that he was too far gone. Even if he didn’t know it yet, his mind was already made up. And were you really going to try to stop him? He looked so happy. You didn’t have the heart.

 

You leaned down and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to go ask about a “Get Acquainted” room?”

 

“Yes,” He chimed instantly, and you sighed. Hank was _not_ going to be happy.

 

“Okay, let’s go to the front desk,” You said, and he stood up and marched to the door in one swift motion. You laughed at his eagerness, and followed him through the doorway. You stopped to wash your hands, and you made him do the same. Finally, you reached the front desk, and the receptionist greeted you.

 

“Hello! How can I help you?” She chirped politely, smiling.

                                                   

“There’s a dog that we’d like to see,” Connor explained, and she nodded.

 

“You’d like a room?” She asked, typing something into her computer.

 

“Yes, please,” Connor said.

 

“Which dog?”

 

“Roxie, ID number 43561.”

 

She gave Connor a look, but didn’t say anything to his strange memorization. He must have read it off of her tag, or the sign.

 

“Okay, everything should be fine, I’ll send for another employee to help you get set up. You can wait right over there,” She pointed, and turned to answer the ringing phone.

 

“Thank you,” He responded in his formal voice, before he retreated to the chairs she pointed at.

 

You and Connor hadn’t been waiting for very long before a kind-looking staff member approached you and grinned. “Are you the folks that wanted to see Roxie?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” You responded as you stood up.

 

“Good choice. She’s a beautiful dog, I’m surprised she hasn’t been adopted already! Follow me, I’ll unlock a room for you,” She walked down the hallway towards the dog kennels, but she took a left into a side hallway with six small rooms. She unlocked the closest one, and flicked on the light switch. Inside was another bench and a small pile of dog toys. “Now, if you two would wait right here, I’ll go get her.”

 

“Thank you,” you and Connor said at the same time. The two of you sat on the bench to wait.

 

“So… Are you thinking about adopting her?” You asked, although you already knew the answer.

 

“Maybe,” Connor responded vaguely. “Hank would be… upset, if I brought a dog home without his permission.”

 

“Ah, screw him,” You laughed, and Connor’s shocked face looked around, as if Hank could hear you and was coming for blood. “No, I’m serious. It’s your life. If you think that dog is going to make you happy, then go for it. Don’t let Hank stop you.”

 

“It is his house, though,” Connor countered.

 

“Hank wouldn’t kick you out. He likes you too much to do that,” You elbowed his arm.

 

“I’m not so sure about-” He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, because the door had just re-opened, and the nice worker lady came back in with Roxie tugging on a leash. She knelt down to take off the harness that the leash was connected to. Roxie spotted Connor and started to enthusiastically squirm with excitement. Connor spotted Roxie and his face lit up.

 

“You can only us the room for fifteen minutes,” The woman said as she struggled to pull the harness off the wiggling puppy. “Once that time is up, I’ll come to put Roxie back. If you have any questions about her feel free to ask me or Danielle at the front desk. Oh my goodness, Roxie, please, I have to get this off!”

 

“Do you need help?” Connor asked, and he stood up from the bench.

 

“No, no, I’ve almost got it,” She waved him away. “I’ve never seen her this excited before! She must really like you. Ah ha, got it! Alright, have fun with Roxie!” The lady called as she closed the door behind her.

 

Roxie shook vigorously once the harness was gone. Her tail wagged as she barked and excitedly bounded over to Connor. He dropped to his knees and held out his arms as she ran right into him, full-force. He laughed happily and tried to hold her back as she eagerly jumped up and licked his face. Her tail whacked his arms as it wagged and wagged. She jumped up on his again and again, so overjoyed, ecstatic and excited. You couldn’t help but laugh with him as his face, neck and shoulders were covered in dog kisses.

 

You dropped down to the floor with him as he finally managed to somewhat hold her. Her head rapidly swung from side to side, still trying to lick him. You giggled at them, the pure joy overflowing from both of them and infecting you. Connor just looked so happy, and you were glad you could share that moment with him.

 

You scooched closer until you were shoulder to shoulder with him, which might not have been a good idea, because you were met with a mouthful of Roxie’s still wagging tail. You spit the hair out of your mouth and Connor snickered at you, but he pushed Roxie’s butt down so her tail wasn’t pummeling you. You reached out to pet her as well, and you were delighted by how fluffy she was.

 

“Honestly, Connor, how could you _not_ adopt her? There is _no way_ that Hank wouldn’t like her,” You exclaimed, enthusiastically patting Roxie’s back. She turned around on Connor’s lap and leaned over to lick your face as well, and you laughed as you made futile attempts to push her away.

 

“You think?” Connor spoke, but he was muffled by her tail hitting _his_ face.

 

“Absolutely. You two were made for each other.”

 

He looked down at the puppy in his lap and smiled, also infected by her highly contagious happiness. He buried his face in her fur and leaned in, content to just wrap his arms around her. You smiled, although it was bittersweet. You loved him _so much_ , and even though you wanted him to be happy, the thought that he only saw you as a friend still hurt. You sighed and patted Roxie some more.

 

“Come on, Connor. Let’s go adopt this dog.”

 

. . .

 

Connor couldn’t stop himself from smiling as the two of you walked out of the shelter together, Roxie leading the way on a new collar and leash. As soon as you stepped out of the warmth of the building you shivered, again wishing you had enough forethought to wear a jacket.

 

“Are you cold?” Connor said over the sound of the rain that was still falling in sheets.

 

“I’ll be fine,” You responded nonchalantly, even though your teeth were chattering.

 

“Take my jacket,” Connor offered, already peeling it off.

 

“No, Connor, you don’t have to do that,” You said, but he had already placed it on your shoulders. You immediately felt so much warmer, and you unintentionally sighed as you stuck your arms through the sleeves. “Thanks. What about you, though?”

 

“Androids don’t feel the cold,” He informed you as he struggled to open the umbrella with Roxie tugging at her leash. You took it and opened it for him.

 

Just like before, you and him hurried to the car to stay out of the rain. Once you got to where it was parked, you opened the door to the back seats and he ushered Roxie inside. Once Connor got in and started the engine, Roxie shook all the raindrops from her fur, soaking the inside of the car.

 

“Hank’s going to be _pissed_ ,” You gasped, joking, but at the same time afraid for your life.

 

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Connor retorted and he pulled out of the parking lot.

 

The car ride to Hank’s house was mostly uneventful. Roxie stared out the window the entire time, and the rain finally started to slow down.

 

It was when you arrived that you had a problem.

 

“He’s less likely to get mad if you tell him-“

 

“No way, I’m not going to tell Hank that you got a dog without telling him! That’s practically suicide-“

 

“If you tell him he’ll probably be more open to the idea, he respects you-“

 

“I doubt that. Besides, I’m not as close to him as you are-“

 

‘You’ve known him longer than I have-“

 

‘It’s _your dog-_ “

 

“Yes, but you helped me adopt her-“

 

“Oh my god, why don’t we just flip a coin or something?” You groaned as your forehead hit the dashboard, frustrated.

 

There was a short pause before Connor responded, “Alright. Heads, you tell him, tails, I don’t tell him,”

 

“I’m not falling for that,” You frowned at him, jokingly. You quietly added, “Not again…”

 

“Okay, fine. Heads, I tell him, tails, you tell him.” Connor compromised, and you watched him flip his coin perfectly in the air and catch it evenly in his palm.

 

The engraved faces of your coworkers smiled up at you, and you whooped. “Yesssss, ha-ha, have fun breaking the news to Hank!”

 

“Thank you, I will,” He articulated genuinely, but you knew he was being sarcastic.

 

“I’ll hold Roxie by the front door. Give me a signal when you’re ready for me to come in,” You instructed him, and he nodded as he handed you the umbrella.

 

You followed him to Hank’s porch, and waited outside with the door open just a crack.

 

“Hank, I’m back,” Connor’s voice called from inside the house.

 

“How was your date?” You heard Hank reply. You inhaled sharply, and felt your cheeks grow warm. It wasn’t a date. Or… was it? No, you were just being too hopeful. Hank was joking. Right?

 

It was too hard to hear what Connor said to that, but you did hear him say, “Actually, I may have… bought something while I was there.”

 

“Connor,” Hank growled, warningly.

 

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Lieutenant. You can come in now!”

 

At the sound of his voice, Roxie pushed open the door and shot into the house. You stepped into the living room, where Hank was sitting on the couch, and Sumo looked like he had just been woken up from a nap on his dog bed. Connor took Roxie’s leash from you and stood in front of the TV. The only thing that betrayed his calm façade was his fingers tapping against the leash and his side.

 

Hank looked from Roxie, to Connor, to you, and then back to Roxie again. “No fucking way!” He bellowed, standing up from the couch. “Did you seriously _adopt a dog_ without asking me if I was fucking OKAY WITH IT?”

 

To his credit, Connor didn’t cringe, but you certainly did. You never liked being on the receiving end of his rage.

 

“I believe that this dog will make me happy, so I adopted her,” Connor repeated what you told him, to your surprise. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I saw her eyes, and I couldn’t say no.”

 

Connor looked at Hank with what you could only describe as pleading and begging puppy dog eyes. Hank shook his head and muttered something along the lines of “fuckin android” before he looked down at Roxie again. She wagged her tail at him and sniffed his legs, which resulted in her getting excited again. Hank knelt down and held his hand out to her. She bypassed smelling his hand altogether and went straight to his face. She jumped up on his knee and starting slobbering all over his beard and nose, her body shimming with delight.

 

Hank let out a short, barking laugh as he pushed Roxie off of him, and you and Connor exchanged a hopeful glance. He heaved himself off the floor and wiped his face, before he crossed his arms. There was a long pause where the only sound was Roxie’s tail thumping against the carpet. Finally, Hank broke the silence.

 

“Fine, fine. She can stay, I don’t have a problem with it,” Hank stated. Another victim of Roxie’s plague of joy was taken, and you had never been happier. Connor turned to you with a smile of pure relief and elation and you cheered and threw your arms around him in a huge hug. He returned the gesture and gently wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you close. You sighed and snuggled into his warmth, and you laughed when you felt a paw hitting your side. You peeked over Connor’s arm and saw that Roxie was jumping up, excited to share the moment.

 

“I’m not fucking done,” Hank grumbled, and you went right back to worrying. “We have to see what Sumo thinks of her.”

 

You looked at Connor nervously, but he was smiling. He picked Roxie up and placed her right in front of Sumo’s nose. He sniffed her, his exhales rustling the fur on her face. Her tail seemed to be perpetually wagging, but she did seem to cower a little bit as Sumo inspected her.

 

It was a tense moment as everyone in the room stared at the two dogs on the floor. Sumo leaned forward slowly… and sneezed. All the tension immediately left Connor’s shoulders as he smiled again.

 

“What kind of a guard dog are you,” Hank mumbled, but he was smiling lightly was well.

 

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” You interrupted.

 

“Sumo sneezes when he’s happy,” Connor informed you.

 

“OH,” You replied, nodding. “Well, congrats, guys, on the new member of your family!”

 

“Did you give her a name yet, Connor?” Hank questioned as Connor leaned down to pet her.

 

“The shelter gave her the name Roxie-“

 

“Nah, it’s better if you name her yourself. Besides, I hate the name Roxie.”

 

Connor didn’t waste a moment in offering “Calliope.”

 

“Calliope?” You and Hank repeated at the same time.

 

“Cali for short. In Greek mythology, Calliope was the oldest muse. The muses were the deities of music, song, and dance,” Connor explained. “And I just like the name.”

 

“Calliope,” You said. “Cali. I like it. I think it suits her.”

 

“It’s better than Roxie, that’s for sure,” Hank admitted.

 

“I’m glad you’re okay with it, Hank,” You smiled, genuinely relieved. “I really should get home, though. Connor, would you give me a ride?”

 

“Of course.”

 

. . .

 

The rain had completely stopped by the time you got home, and sunlight was filtering through the wet leaves, lighting up your street. You stepped out of the car, and Connor walked you to your door.

 

“Thank you for coming,” He said, standing with you on your porch.

 

“You’re welcome, thank you for inviting me! I had a lot of fun,” You smiled up at him excess drops of water slowly splashed down from the roof onto your front walk.

 

“Maybe we could do something like this… in the future?” He looked at you, and he sounded like he really wanted to spend more time with you. You smiled up at him, so grateful that he was in your life that it almost _hurt._

 

“Of course.”

 

He smiled at you, so genuine-looking, happy and soft. You wished he would never stop smiling. His hair was slightly wet from the rain, and it was messier than usual, but it looked good on him. His eyes seemed to be extra bright, and you thought back to what you said about the rain making everything more saturated. All you could think about in that moment was how beautiful his freckled cheeks and perfect lips were, and how badly you longed to _kiss him…_

 

“I’ll see you at work,” Connor looked away, and you realized how close you were to him. You took a step back and cleared your throat. You knew your face was red, but there was nothing you could do about it.

 

“Yeah. See you at work,” You mumbled your goodbye, and you watched him as he walked back to Hank’s car, and waved at him as he drove away.

 

You heard the door close with a soft click, and you pressed your back to it and sunk down to the floor, sighing.

 

It was only then that you realized you were still wearing his jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUUPER long chapter! I didn't have time to proofread all of this one, so I apologize for any mistakes! Feel free to point them out if you see any! Or if you see anthing wrong with anything, please tell me! Also sorry if you're allergic and/or don't like animals.
> 
> I am so tired. It is 4:30 AM. I have school in THREE HOURS. Big oof. 
> 
> Calliope is pronounced Ka-lie-oh-pee, in case anyone is wondering, but Cali is just Cali. I really like Greek mythology, what can I say.
> 
> So, for the next chapter, I really think it would be the most interesting written from Connor's POV. The problem is, to do that I'd have to use pronouns. So far, I've avoided using pronouns because I want anyone who reads it to be able to put themselves in the reader's perspective. My reader is more feminine because I am a female, but just in case I have any male or non-binary readers, I'm going to make three versions of the next chapter. The female one will be here, while the male and they/them versions will be linked. I hope this is okay with everyone!
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING!


	8. Terrible Things (Female Version)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this is the female version of this chapter! If you want the non-binary/gender neutral version or the male version, follow these links!
> 
> Male: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821475
> 
> Non-Binary/Gender Neutral: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821499
> 
> This chapter might be a little... specific. I hope you can relate to the the reaction, even if you can't relate to the thing being reacted TO, if that makes any sense. That being said, I hope you like the chapter! Thank you all for reading!

“Maybe the perpetrator will strike the same store again, now that it’s repaired,” Connor offered as he leaned over Hank’s shoulder and observed the case files.

 

“Could be. It’s almost _too_ obvious, though. It might be a setup,” Hank leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Several empty cups of coffee were discarded on the desk, and Connor observed that only two of them were from earlier that morning. It was concerning, to say the least.

 

“Yes, but based on the property destroyed in the previous break-ins,” Connor responded as he touched the screen and pulled up pictures of the crime scene. It was a store window with a trash can thrown in it, the items destroyed, and inside, the cashier was shot and all the money stolen. The symbol of the android revolution was signed above the “No Androids Allowed” sign. “It wasn’t a planned, covert murder, but spur-of-the-moment. I suggest we follow the pattern and go on a stakeout the night of-”

 

Suddenly, Connor was interrupted by a sharp, short-lived scream, followed by the sound of what could only a coffee mug smashing against a counter. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and glanced over at the break room. It wasn’t just any scream, though. Connor recognized it.

 

It was _her_ scream.

 

Connor ignored Hank’s angry protests as he shot up and hurried over to the break room, the case completely forgotten. His thoughts were only of her. Why did she scream? Why did a coffee cup break?

 

Was she okay?

 

That was a question that he almost never had the answer to, but it kept reappearing in his objectives. Check on the Detective. Make sure she was stable, or preferably, happy. Apart from Hank, her well-being was his priority.

 

It was understandable why he would want to take care of Hank. He was Connor’s partner, his friend, and he needed near constant psychological, emotional and physical assistance. He needed Connor to help him stop drinking, to help him get back on his feet, to help him recover from the trauma induced by his son’s premature death. He needed Connor, and Connor needed to help him. It was logical.

 

He didn’t understand _why_ he felt the need to protect _her,_ though. Sure, it was obvious that she had some form of anxiety, but she wasn’t Connor’s partner. She wasn’t his responsibility.

 

So why was he always thinking about her?

 

Maybe it was the newfound empathy that Connor gained that fueled his desire to make her happy. Maybe it was a kind of respect or admiration; she certainly was a good cop. Maybe it was because she always treated him with kindness, even before he was a deviant. Maybe it was the way that every time she talked to him, her vitals went crazy, like she was intimidated or frightened, and he felt a need to reassure her.

 

Or maybe it was the way her head would shoot up and her eyes would flash at him every time he entered a room. Maybe it was the way her face would light up when he said hello, or how she would smile so big and make Connor wish she would do it more often. Or how she didn’t seem to realize how talented, intelligent and _extraordinary_ she was.

 

Connor shook his head as he rounded the corner to the break room, confused by where that train of thought come from. It wasn’t the first time that had happened. He needed to focus on the task at hand, she could be in danger.

 

“Detective?” He inquired as he stepped into the alcove. His eyes scanned the room as he analyzed the scene.

 

The Detective was standing in a defensive, closed off position near the high tables. Her breathing was rapid and highly irregular, and she was trembling slightly. Her heart was beating at a rate of 114 bpm, an alarming jump from her average of 78. His eyes traveled to the side of the room she was facing, where coffee was dripping off the counter and staining the carpet below. The countertop was too tall for her to have dropped the mug. He looked at the angle of the smashed pieces, and concluded that she had been standing, making a coffee, and had thrown her mug at something, towards the sink. What she had thrown her mug at, he wasn’t sure, but it had her in a state of serious panic.

 

She turned at the sound of Connor’s greeting, and pure relief flooded into her eyes as she rushed over to him and grabbed his forearm tightly, as if she was floating in the ocean and he was her life preserver. “Connor, thank God you’re here. It-It crawled out of the sink, please please please kill it, please, It’s GIGANTIC, please just kill it, please-”

 

“Everything’s alright, you’re okay,” Connor reassured her in a quiet voice, as comforting as possible. He leaned over her and massaged her shoulder in soothing circles, and he watched as her heart rate slowly fell and her breathing grew steadier. Success. “What crawled out of the sink?”

 

Unfortunately, that might have been the wrong thing to say, because her heart rate shot right back up to where it started. She took a deep, shuddering breath and silently pointed to the sink. He started to make his way over, and he felt her let go of him. His arm immediately went cold. He furrowed his brows at her questioningly, but she violently shook her head. He stared at her for a second before he slowly turned around and cautiously made his way over to the sink. He peered inside, curious to see what had made her so uncomfortable.

 

Inside the stainless steel sink was a dark brown wolf spider, about a millimeter larger than a shot glass. It was not moving, most likely spooked by the mug. He tilted his head at it, before he turned back to her inquisitively.

 

She saw his expression, and looked away, her face turning red. She dug her nails into her left arm, a habit he really wished she would put an end to.

 

“You have a fear of spiders,” He said. She sighed and nodded.

 

“I know, I know, it’s really stupid. Sorry, they just... REALLY freak me out. I really don’t like them,” She stammered quickly, in a slightly shaky voice. She took another deep breath before she made a noise and squirmed. Her feet rubbed at her shins, as if the spider was going up her legs and crawling on the rest of her body.

 

“Okay, okay, don’t worry,” he said her name softly, in an effort to stop her panicking. She had severe arachnophobia, it seemed, and she obviously wouldn’t be comfortable until she knew the spider was dead. “Everything will be alright. I’ll take care of it.”

 

“Thank you,” She breathed, and he nodded as he turned back to the sink. He leaned over it, and found that the spider still hadn’t moved. He was looking around for something to kill it with he heard footsteps approaching. Unfortunately, he knew those footsteps. He closed his eyes and mentally sighed.

 

“What the hell is going on in here?” Gavin Reed’s voice came from the entrance to the break room, as perpetually pissed as ever. Connor glanced over at Reed, who, like him, was surveying the scene. He saw Connor at the counter and scoffed angrily, before he all but stomped over to peer down into the sink.

 

First he saw the spider, at which he scoffed again, then he saw Connor, standing over it, and finally he turned to the Detective, who was wearing the expression of someone who had just smelled spoiled milk. Fortunately, Reed wasn’t a bad detective, and he figured out what had happened. Unfortunately, he was what Hank would call an “asshole,” and didn’t know what the word subtle meant.

 

“You’re afraid of _spiders?_ ” Reed laughed, and this time, she shook her head.

 

“N-no! It just surprised me!” She crossed her arms, presumably to hide her shaking hands. Connor noticed that her hands tended to perspire and tremble when she was nervous.

 

“Oh really,” Gavin replied sarcastically, obviously not convinced. He looked back down at the spider, and he smiled, either mischievously or manically, Connor couldn’t tell. Either way, Connor was suddenly suspicious of what Detective Reed was plotting. He sincerely hoped that Gavin wasn’t as much of an “insensitive prick” as to actually do what his behavior was implying.

 

“So, it wouldn’t upset you if I did,” Gavin smirked, and Connor went to grab Gavin’s hand before he could reach the sink. He didn’t react fast enough, and Gavin scooped up the spider and held it by two of its legs. “This?”

 

The Detective inhaled sharply, and she took a step back, her arms flying up into a stop position. It squirmed and frenetically thrashed in his grip, its body twisting and struggling against his fingers. Gavin saw her face and laughed triumphantly, “I knew it! You shouldn’t try to lie to me, sweetheart.”

 

Connor felt a wave of something red-hot surge through his head at the way Gavin talked to her. He shouldn’t speak to her that way, Connor thought. At the word “sweetheart,” Connor had to fight the urge to punch him.

 

“Reed, stop it RIGHT NOW,” She demanded, her voice loud, as if she was having trouble controlling it. Gavin laughed stepped forward with his arm outstretched, the spider squirming in front of him. She whimpered at the sight of its writhing legs as her breathing became dangerously close to hyperventilation. “Gavin...”

 

He took another step and she covered her ears and turned away, her eyes shut tight. She hunched over, her arms pulled taught against her body, and her legs jammed together in a tense standing position. “Stop, stop, stop, please, _please_ stop, just kill it, please just kill it!”

 

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad, just look at him!” Gavin insisted, and she (rather unwisely) complied. She peaked over and saw him, halfway through the room now, his hand only about five feet from her. She stared at it, frozen in fear, a completely terrified look on her face.

 

“She told you to stop, Gavin. Put it back,” Connor demanded, desperate to help her. He couldn’t attack Gavin. That would make him drop the spider and cause her to panic even more, not to mention the way Gavin would retaliate. He couldn’t try to grab the spider, because that would scare her as well. She was his top priority. He couldn’t let her get hurt. He _wouldn’t._

_“_ Fuck off, tin man, I’m just teasing. Isn’t that right, babe?” He took another step and laughed as she backed up against the wall. She was frantically scanning the room looking for a way out, but her eyes landed back on the spider and she cringed. She was hyperventilating, and her heart rate had risen to a dangerous 132 bpm. Connor realized that if he didn’t do something, there was a high probability that she would have a panic attack.

 

“Please, please, please, stop, no, no, no, no, please, just kill it, PLEASE,” she cried desperately, repetitively, almost incoherently. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears as she covered her ears again and dug her nails into her scalp. Gavin took another step and she let out a pitiful, choked sob, turning away and screwing her eyes shut.

 

“That’s enough!” Connor snapped as his chest tightened from the sound of her quiet, broken cries. He raced across the room to the Detective and stood in front of her, using his body to shield her trembling form from the spider that was still flailing in Gavin’s grasp. He put his arms behind him, where his hands found her elbows as she buried her head in the back of his shirt. She grabbed desperate handfuls of the fabric as she trembled behind him. The tight, heavy feeling in Connor’s chest only got worse, and he realized with shock that his own eyes with stinging slightly. Why was he so upset that _she_ was upset? He swallowed the lump in his throat and commanded, “Leave her alone, now!”

 

Gavin looked up at Connor with disgust and contempt. “Listen here you little shit,” he leaned in. “Don’t you EVER try to tell me what to do!”

 

“Detective Reed, put the spider back, or else it-“

“Don’t you dare threaten me!” Gavin hissed, fuming. “I’m the human! That means you shut the fuck up, and do what I tell you to do! Now get out of my way!”

 

“You need to put the spider down now, or it’s going to-“

 

Gavin suddenly yelped and he reeled back, his arm shooting towards his body. He waved his hand rapidly in the air, cursing. “OW! FUCK!”

 

“-Bite you,” Connor finished, unable to hold back his smug satisfaction.

 

As Gavin was inspecting his fingers, the spider tumbled to the floor, where it started to scurry towards the counter. The Detective squeaked as she watched it fall, and as soon as it started moving, her terror spiked. “Oh my God oh my God Connor it’s moving oh God no no no no no please please kill it please please please,” She was begging, almost hysterically, tugging on Connor’s arm.

 

“I’m on it,” He replied. It had stopped moving, probably out of fear from Reed’s erratic movements and loud swears. Killing it wasn’t his objective, though. Making her feel safe was. He scooped her up in a bridal carry and dispensed her gently on one of the tall chairs. She gripped the table for support and brought her knees up to her chest, in an attempt to put as much distance between herself and the floor.

 

Connor walked over to where the spider was cowering on the ground. He looked at it for a second, before he stuck his heel out and rolled his foot onto it. He felt it crunch under his shoe, and he grimaced slightly. He twisted his foot and put all of his weight on it. When he lifted his foot up, he checked its broken, contorted body, and found that it was, in fact, deceased. “It’s dead.”

 

Connor heard a thunk from behind him, and he turned to see that she had dropped her head onto the table. She was still shaking. Connor picked up a napkin and scooped up the remains of the spider. He tossed it in the trash can, but before he could turn to comfort her, he was interrupted by Gavin’s hand on his shoulder, violently turning him around.

 

“You KNEW it was going to bite me!” He accused. “And you didn’t fucking TELL ME? You fucking plastic piece of shit! Who do you think you are?”

 

“You’re allergic to bees,” Connor stated calmly, and Reed looked taken aback.

 

“How the fuck did you...?”

 

“If you’re allergic to bees, there’s a high probability that you’re allergic to spider bites as well. Your finger has already swollen to 130% of its original size. You should seek medical help,” Connor explained, his voice unwaveringly calm, and his face impartial.

 

“Fuck!” Gavin looked like he was about to punch Connor again. He looked over at the Detective, then he stuck his finger in Connor’s chest and snarled, “Next time, she won’t be here. And then, I’m going to rip you into pieces so tiny they won’t be able to put you back together again,”

 

“Give me a call before you do. I want to make sure Hank’s there to get a picture,” Connor leaned down to look Reed in the eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, but Connor tapped his own hand in a reminder. Reed looked down at his finger, which was most likely throbbing with pain.

 

“Fuck!” Gavin shouted, and he stormed off. Relief spread through Connor’s system.

 

Connor straightened his tie and finally approached the Detective. He said her name gently as he placed his hand on her shoulder. She cringed away his touch, and it made him feel like his chest was being put through a hydraulic press. He didn’t like the way her being upset made him feel. He supposed this was empathy again. But it really seemed... different, with her, somehow.

 

He leaned in and said her name again. “It’s okay. Detective Reed is gone, and the spider is dead. Everything’s alright now.”

 

“I’m sorry...” She mumbled, barely audible. He heard her voice crack and she sniffed, and once again, he felt his own eyes stinging.

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Gavin has no right to talk to you like that, and especially no right to torment you. You should to file a complaint-”

 

“No!” Her head shot up, and Connor finally saw her face. It was red and tear-stained, but the first thought that came to Connor’s mind when he saw it was how beautiful she was, despite her shiny eyes. He never wanted to see her that upset ever again. “I can’t do that! You saw how Gavin reacted. If everyone knew I’d never hear the end of it.”

 

“Gavin is an outlier. Most of the people here would understand. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Phobias are irrational,” Connor murmured as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. Tears brimmed in her eyes again, and the weight in Connor’s chest got heavier. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into his embrace, trembling. “It wasn’t your fault. Everything is alright.”

 

Connor traced slow lines up and down her back as he held her close. She always felt so small and fragile whenever he held her, even though she was one of the most competent people he knew. He hadn’t done much hugging in his lifetime, but from the few ones he had experienced, the hugs from the Detective were his favorites. It wasn’t just the fact they were somehow special, different from Hank’s. It was the way she fit perfectly in his arms, like she was meant to be there. It was how soft and warm she was, and how she would sigh and nestle in even closer. It was the indescribable feeling that he felt whenever he was round her, but amplified.

 

Maybe he liked her hugs the best just because they were from _her._

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again as she buried her face into his chest. Her heart rate was back down to 88, and still dropping, and her breathing was slow and even. She was stable. Connor let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry that you had to go through all this trouble for something as stupid as a spider. I just... hate them so much.”

 

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. Everyone has fears. Phobias are don’t make logical sense, and that can be incredibly frustrating. You’ve been through a lot more than me today. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”

 

“No, no,” She shook her head. “I appreciate you coming to help me at all.”

 

“It’s not a problem,” Connor responded.

 

“Hey Connor?”

 

“Yes?”

 

She broke away from the hug, and Connor had to restrain himself from pulling her back into it, to keep her close. She looked up at him thoughtfully, and Connor’s thirium pump felt like it was malfunctioning. Her large, stunning eyes met his as she asked, “You never stand up for yourself when Gavin harasses you. Why’d you stand up for me?”

 

Connor blinked, thrown off by her question. It was something he didn’t have a real answer to, another query about emotions and life he desperately wished he could understand. He chose a safe option and answered, “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

 

“And beating up Gavin isn’t?”

 

“Unfortunately, that would cause more problems than it would solve. Besides, I think the spider took care of that for us.”

 

“Was that true?” She tilted her head, causing another ripple of _something_ to make its way through his limbs. “Since Gavin’s allergic to bees, he’s also allergic to spiders?”

 

“Absolutely. If he has any bit of intelligence, he’ll be on his way to the nearest hospital or clinic right now,” Connor checked his map and saw that there was a hospital just two blocks away. Reed would be fine.

 

 “I should text him to make sure he actually goes to one,” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her hands, before she glanced up at him between her fingers. She pursed her lips slightly, and furrowed her brow. Her eyes drifted up, as if she was analyzing him. She looked hesitant as she said, “Are _you_ afraid of anything? You don’t have to answer, I’m just curious...”

 

Connor thought for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he began, and he was faintly aware that she was watching his LED as it flickered yellow. “There are things I don’t find as appealing as others, but I don’t think I’m “afraid” of anything specifically. I don’t even know if I’d be able to recognize it if I was scared.”

 

She hummed in response, a beautiful, soft noise that Connor couldn’t quite describe, but always wanted to hear more of. He thought back to early in the summer, when he had left his work to investigate that noise and had found her singing. Her voice was… enchanting, for lack of a better word. There was something about it that made Connor want to stop and listen, something that made him forget about all his questions and confusion. Her voice made him feel… something. It was the same something that he felt when he talked to her, or held her, or when she smiled or made him smile. The same unidentifiable feeling that fueled his desire to be around her, to get to know her, to _protect_ her. He looked at her, and wished that he understood.

 

“Spiders and singing in front of people,” Connor remarked, leaning on the table. “That’s an odd combination of fears.”

 

“It always come back to the singing with you, doesn’t it?” She smiled, and Connor laughed softly. He was still getting used to the way laughing felt.

 

“Not always,” He argued, and she rolled her eyes.

 

Connor watched as she slowly slid off the stool, and hesitantly touched the carpet. She looked at the trash can warily, and Connor quickly placed a hand on her back, before her heartrate could rise substantially. He guided her to the doorway, although she still seemed slightly uneasy. “Are you sure you’ll be okay going back to work?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be okay,” She answered confidently, shaking her arms out one last time. She looked up at him, her eyes full of some kind of emotion, Connor couldn’t tell what. It seemed familiar, though, as if he’d seen it before.

 

Before she walked away, she leaned up on the tips of her toes and hugged him again. Her arms grasped him tightly, similar to the way she grabbed his arm when he had first come to investigate the scream. Connor returned the hug eagerly, and he rested his cheek on the side of her head. He breathed in, cataloguing the way she smelled, memorizing it. He didn’t really have good criteria for what made a smell “good,” per se, but he did know that he liked the way she smelled. She and Hank both smelled familiar, like it was more than just the things and places that made up their scents. Somewhere in his social relations programs, he knew that smelling people wasn’t an incredibly acceptable or normal practice, but when it came to her, he didn’t care.

 

“Thank you,” She breathed, squeezing him tighter. “Just… Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” He replied quietly. For once in his life, he didn’t want to go back to his desk. He just wanted to be with her.

 

She audibly sighed, and let go of him. “I’ll see you later, Connor.”

 

“Have a nice day, Detective,” He stated as she turned to walk back to her desk. He watched her walk away. She had impeccable balance, he thought, before he turned away quickly, realizing that he was staring inappropriately. He stole a glance at her as he sat down at his desk, and when her eyes met his, he rapidly turned to his computer.

 

“What was all that about?’ Hank asked.

 

“Nothing,” Connor said. Hank didn’t look persuaded, but he shrugged and went back to his screen.

 

Connor looked down at his coin, and flipped it to the heads side. His eyes traced the engraved features of the Detective, and he felt something in his lower torso, like he was being pulled down to the ground.

 

This wasn’t normal.

 

. . .

 

“Can I ask you a question, Lieutenant?”

 

“When do you ever not?” Hank grumbled as he took a bite of his burrito. He sighed, frustrated when Connor didn’t respond, and he turned to face him in his seat. “Shoot.”

 

“It’s an… Emotional problem. I think,” Connor began.

 

“If you try to tell me about my “emotional problems” one more time I swear to fucking God Connor-”

 

“It’s not about you,” Connor interrupted, holding his hands up to pacify the angry old man sitting in the car next to him. “It’s about… me, I suppose.”

 

“Huh,” Hank leaned back, and bit another chunk out of his lunch. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

 

“I believe I’m experiencing an emotion that I haven’t before, and I’m having trouble identifying it. I thought since you have much, _much,_ ” Connor exaggerated the second much, and Hank frowned. “More experience with emotions than me, you could help me. If it’s not an emotion, it’s most likely a virus.”

 

“Couldn’t you have just looked it up on the internet or something?”

 

“I have,” Connor tapped at the armrest. “Many times. I don’t think the results are entirely accurate, though.”

 

“Okay,” Hank mumbled. Connor looked at him blankly, and Hank hit his arm. “Go on, I can’t identify an emotion if you don’t describe it to me!”

 

“Right,” Connor nodded, and he looked out the window at the rainy street. She was right about the saturation, he thought. “What would you call an emotion where you’re constantly thinking and worrying about someone? And when you’re around them, It’s like nothing else exists anymore, and all that you care about is them and their happiness. When they touch you, it feels like your skin is on fire, but you don’t want to stop the burning. You want them to be safe above everything else, above logic, and you don’t understand why you’re always so… Happy to be around them, and talking to them makes you feel lighter, in a way. You’re constantly thinking about them, and you think they’re amazing, and… And all you want to do is be with them, even though everything seems so illogical and doesn’t make sense. What… What would you call that?”

 

Connor looked over at Hank, slightly embarrassed that he had rambled on for so long. When he saw Hank’s face, Connor wasn’t so sure that telling him was the best idea.

 

Hank was staring at Connor with the most peculiar expression, as if he had just told him he enjoyed breaking people’s toes for sport. After a long moment, Hank finally spoke. “Jesus Christ, Connor… Most advanced computer in the world and you can’t even tell when you have a crush on someone,” Hank laughed, and Connor tilted his head.

 

“I know what a crush is,” Connor retorted, and he looked away again. “I don’t have a crush.”

 

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Hank lectured him, and at the word “her” Connor’s head swiveled back to look at him. He didn’t use her name. Hank _couldn’t_ know who it was, right? Why was Connor so intent on not letting him know? Another thing to add to the list of things that didn’t make sense. Hank switched burrito hands and patted Connor on the back roughly. “It’s okay that you like her.”

 

“I don’t like her!” Connor exclaimed, and he immediately felt some kind of guilt. Hank raised his eyebrows, and Connor shook his head slowly. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I mean, I don’t like her _romantically._ ”

 

“That’s bullshit, Connor, you know that just as well as I do. Liking someone isn’t the end of the fucking world.”

 

“I know. I’m just… Concerned about the possibilities. Android and human relationships are virtually nonexistent. There would be social consequences. The last thing I want to do is put her in an uncomfortable situation. Plus, I doubt she has the same feelings about me.” He looked out the window gloomily.

 

At that, Hank actually laughed, and Connor glanced at him, confused. “That’s one of the funniest things I’ve heard in _weeks_ ,” he wheezed.

 

“I don’t understand, what’s funny about-“

 

“Connor, listen. Relationships are hard. Confusing. They don’t make any goddamn sense. But if you’re in the right one, you’ll know. Just ask her out on a date, and be done with it. Unless you’d like to stay where you are, two of you drooling over each other when you think nobody’s watching,”

 

‘What?”

 

“Never mind. But I’m serious. Ask her on a date, or I’ll arrange one for you,”

 

“No, thank you. I’ll think about it,” Connor looked down, and looked at his coin again. He traced his nail over the ridges on its edge and sighed.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Connor. It’s that bad?” Hank joked as he crumpled up the foil and tossed it into the back seat. Connor caught it and placed it in his pocket, to properly throw away later. He didn’t respond thought. He just sat back in his heat and stared straight ahead. Hank grumbled, and started the engine. The car sputtered to life, and the two of them rolled down the rainy street.

 

Connor’s head felt overcrowded, too full of new information and data.

 

How could everything suddenly make sense, but also be even more confusing than before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP people who aren’t afraid of spiders
> 
> Nah but I have AWFUL arachnophobia, so this chapter in inspired by that. Actually, I probably react even more violently because I have less control and maturity or something.
> 
> Anyway I hope you like the chapter! Gavin finally gets smacked, and there’s just a tiny bit of hurt/comfort. Also Connor’s really difficult to write. But I did my best, and I really hope you liked it!
> 
> Like I said, sorry if you’re cool with spiders. In this story I guess the spider can just represent those feelings of panic and terror, and I hope you can still relate to the reader’s reaction even if you can’t relate to the thing they’re reacting to.
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you all so much for all your positive feedback! All your kind comments and kudos and bookmarks and views have made me so excited and inspired to write! I appreciate every single one of them, and I know people just say that a lot, but it's totally true. Words can not describe how much each individual comment means to me. They make me so happy, and turn my days from bad to good in just a moment. I'm so glad people seem to like my writing! 
> 
> If you guys ever see anything, ANYTHING wrong at all, please do not hesitate to say something! The customer is always right, as they say, and I really want to improve. Criticism and practice is the only way my writing will get better!
> 
> But anyway, thank you SO MUCH for 1800+ hits! And THANK YOU FOR READING!!!


	9. Clover

You scrolled through the file on your new assignment, and tilted your head at the complicated, and somewhat contradicting information. You looked at the little evidence you were given and cracked your knuckles, knowing it would be a tough case.

 

“No fucking way!” You heard a familiar voice yell from the other side of the room. You were surprised to not hear anger, but disbelief and happiness in the shout. You, along with everyone else in the room, looked over at Hank and Connor.

 

Connor was leaning over Hank’s shoulder, smiling at the screen. Hank was laughing, almost in some kind of shock. “No fucking way!” He shouted again.

 

You were tempted to go over and ask them what was up, but you knew Fowler would kill you if you slacked off again. You laughed silently to yourself as you turned back to your terminal. It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps approaching you from behind.

 

“Detective,” The sound of Connor’s voice, calling your title and last name greeted you.

 

“Good morning, Connor,” You smiled at him when you turned around, and you felt a hop of joy in your heart when he returned it. His hands went from his tie, to the coin in his pocket, then back to adjust his tie again, before they rested behind his back. You could tell he had something on his mind, something that he was excited about. You stood up and leaned back against the side of your desk with your hands in your pockets. “What’s up?”

 

“Nothing in particular,” He responded, his eyebrows shooting up.

 

“You know, for a person literally _made_ for interrogations, you can be a pretty bad liar. It’s about what Hank was yelling about earlier, right?”

 

“It could be,” He said innocently, but gave you a sly smile.

 

“Oh shut up! Just tell me!” You demanded as you jabbed him in the arm.

 

He looked like he was holding back a smile as he asked, “Would you like to come with me and Hank to the Detroit Tigers game this Saturday?”

 

“What? Really?” You asked, befuddled. You weren’t sure _what_ you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. At that point you really should have been prepared for anything, considering Connor’s track record of out-of-context questions.

 

Connor opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by a hearty thump on his back as Hank inserted himself into the conversation. “This fucking idiot entered in a contest for three free tickets to prime seats in a Tigers game and _won,”_ Hank remarked.

 

“What? _Really?”_ You repeated, this time excited. “That’s awesome! What did you have to do to win them?”

 

“A radio show was hosting a caller giveaway segment. They asked, “In what year did the Detroit Tigers begin playing baseball in the American League?” The answer is 1901, and I called in first, so I won,” Connor explained.

 

“Isn’t that… kind of cheating?” You ask, only half-joking.

 

“Nowhere in the rules did they specify whether or not androids could participate,” Connor argued, shrugging.

 

“So you found a loophole,” You observed. “Smart.”

 

“It’s what I do,” Connor replied, and you could have _sworn_ you saw him wink.

 

“Ah, who cares,” Hank interjected. “What they don’t know won’t kill them. Did Connor ask you about going with us yet?”

 

“Yeah. Saturday, right? What time?”

 

“5:30 is when the game begins. We’d pick you up at 5 so we would have enough time to find a place to park,” Connor answered. “Maybe sooner, depending on traffic.”

 

“Oh, yeah, these games always draw huge crowds. Um… I don’t _think_ I have anything going on that day. Hold on for just a second…” You hastily pulled out your phone and checked your calendar. “Yep, I’m free then! I would love to come! Thanks for inviting me.”

 

“Can’t let a ticket go to waste, can we?” Hank grumbled, and If you didn’t know any better you would have thought he was being serious.

 

“Aw, come on, you know it’ll be more fun with me there,” You joked, and Hank made a face.

 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Hank called over his shoulder as he walked away. You shook your head at his back and sighed.

 

“I think it will be.”

 

“What?” You looked up at Connor, confused.

 

“I think it will be more fun with you there,” He said again. He was looking away from you, and it was probably just you getting your hopes up again, but it looked like his cheeks were a slight shade of pink. Half of your mind was short-circuiting because of him _blushing,_ like actually _BLUSHING_! The other half was wondering why androids blushed normally if their blood was blue. You guessed it was because they were made to imitate life to a T. You thought for a moment before you realized you were just staring and hadn’t actually said anything yet.

 

“O-Oh, um, thanks!” You stammered, completely caught off guard. He looked so genuine, almost like a puppy. You could barely contain your elation. He liked spending time with you! He thought you would make the baseball game more fun! Just by _being there!_ Once again, you wondered what in the world you did to deserve someone like him in your life.

 

“You’re welcome,” He smiled down at you. All of the progress you had made with talking to him was completely thrown out the window by that smile. It was the kind of smile that made you feel like Jell-O that had been stuck in the microwave and heated up until it was practically a liquid. It, for a lack of a more eloquent term, made you feel helpless, in the best/worst of ways.

 

“I, uh, have to… go back to work,” You muttered lamely, too mesmerized by his (unfairly) gorgeous smile to form coherent sentences. Curse his stupidly beautiful face.

 

“I should go too,” Connor nodded as he took a step back and rested his hands behind his back.

 

“Yeah. I’ll see you later. Saturday!” You regained your composure and smiled as he began to return to his desk.

 

“I’m looking forward it,” He responded, and you watched him until he sat back down in his seat and Hank leaned in to say something to him.

 

You sighed and sank down into your own chair. You picked up the pen to your tablet and rolled it in your fingers.

 

It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t. You were just friends. He didn’t, and would never like you the way you liked him. You had accepted that, and you were fine with being “just friends.” It wasn’t a date.

 

…Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's totally not a date guys don't worry no romance going on here what even is that sounds stupid
> 
> Hey, sorry about the inconsistent upload schedule! Exams were stressful! Hahaha! Anyway, now that it's HOLIDAY BREAK I have lots of time to write! New chapters will come out every few days or so. This chapter is pretty short, and for that I apologize. But, next chapter is going to be super fun and lighthearted and I'm SO EXCITED to share it all with you! That'll ether come out the 25th, 26th, or 27th.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


	10. Seventh-Inning Stretch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you thought chapter 7 was long, BUCKLE UP BUCKAROO, YOU'RE IN FOR A RIDE

You were waiting by your front door, nervously scrolling on your phone when you saw a car roll into your driveway. You could hear Hank’s heavy metal all the way from your porch as you locked the entrance to your house.

           

You nearly jumped out of your skin and dropped your keys when Hank honked, and you whipped around just in time to watch as Connor pulled Hank’s wrist away from the wheel. He was given a stern look, but he was too preoccupied with getting out to open your door to notice.

 

Connor looked very comfy in a pair of light jeans and a navy blue Detroit Tigers hoodie. Once again, you were astounded that he could make anything look good, even sweatshirts. Hank was in his ratty old coat and one of his signature funky shirts, but he also had a white Tigers t-shirt on underneath. His grey hair was underneath a thematically old and worn baseball cap with the Tiger’s logo on it. You were in jeans, a long-sleeve white shirt, and a Tiger’s jersey. You decided to bring more layers just in case it got colder, like it probably would.

           

“Hey, guys!” You called as you approached.

           

“Hello, Detective,” Connor greeted you.

           

“Hi, Connor,” You smiled, even though your heart was fluttering. You stepped into the car and settled into the seat. You thanked him as he shut your door, and you buckled in tight, as a precaution. Hank had a tendency to drive… aggressively.

 

Hank backed off of your property and cruised down the street. He cranked up the stereo, and you rolled your eyes.

 

“So…” You drummed your fingers against your thighs. “Is this Connor’s first Tigers game?”

 

“First _baseball_ game,” Hank corrected you. You were amazed that he was able to hear you at all over the electric guitar.

 

“Wow, exciting! Do you think you’re going to like it, Connor?”

 

“I think so,” He nearly shouted. “It seems interesting, at the least.”

 

You hummed in response and sat back in your seat, content to just look out the window until you arrived. You played with your fingernails, desperate for something to keep your mind off your nerves. It wasn’t like you hadn’t hung out with Connor and Hank before. You had been with them _plenty_ of times. But every time, you still _kind of_ felt like throwing up. You took a deep breath and set your hands down on your lap. You stared out at the houses and buildings that zoomed past as Hank made his way to Comerica Park.

 

. . .

 

When you finally arrived, you found that the stadium was absolutely _packed_ with people. Hundreds of families with small children, groups of college students, and miscellaneous baseball fans lined the entrance and bag check area. It took the three of you five minutes just to get your tickets checked, and another five when Hank’s flask was confiscated. You and Connor were checked for “contraband” after that, and of course they found nothing. Finally, after 15 whole minutes of waiting, your trio was released into the throng of people.

 

Inside the stadium was even worse. The game that day seemed to be one of the most popular of the year. People were everywhere, walking to and from the concession stands that lined the wall to your left, and the rows of seats to your right. The covered area behind the seats stretched from first base, around home, and down to third. The concrete walls echoed with the sound of voices, bouncing off of each other, creating an endless cacophony of noise. The air smelled heavily of fried foods, popcorn and beer. The slight breeze from the uncovered field didn’t do much to stifle the heat that the concrete walls were accumulating.

 

It was a bit overwhelming, all the things _happening._ You glanced down at your ticket to check where your seats were, and you looked up to the signs above on the right that dictated what seats were where.

 

“Looks like we’re down that way,” You announced. You looked over at Connor. Or, at least, where Connor was _supposed_ to be. You were face to face with stranger’s backs as they pushed past you in the seemingly endless stream of people. You immediately felt a flash of red-hot panic flow through you. Where were Hank and Connor? You whipped around in an attempt to find them, but you couldn’t see anything over the throng of people.

 

You pushed yourself out of the middle of the walkway, relieved to have a little space to breathe. You avoided a mysterious puddle on the ground and stood on your tip-toes, searching. You couldn’t spot Hank’s grey hair, or Connor’s dark brown. Curse them for being so normal-looking.

 

 _They can’t be far. They would have noticed that I’m gone. Right?_ You thought worriedly. You could feel terror building in your chest as you clutched the hem of your sleeves tightly. You gulped your fear down, and resumed your search. Connor would probably be able to hear you over the crowd, but you didn’t want to yell and make a scene. You looked down at your ticket again, and decided that you’d just go to your seats and meet there. If they weren’t waiting for you, you could call one of them. You were about to squeeze your way through the current of bodies again, when someone grabbed your arm and you heard someone say your name from behind you.

 

You jumped at the sound, and a tiny surprised shriek slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it. You spun around, and you almost collided with the person behind you. You looked up and found yourself face to face with a slightly worried-looking Connor. You sighed in relief and had to resist the urge to bury your face in his arms. Hank was standing behind him with a disappointed and annoyed look on his face, so he looked pretty normal.

 

“Are you alright?” Connor asks. He lightly held on to your arm, as if he was preventing you from wandering off again.

 

You nodded, but Hank interrupted you. “Jesus Christ, not even five minutes in and you already got lost. Do we need a fucking leash?”

 

You frowned at him. “I’m _fine,_ thanks for asking. And no, we don’t need a leash. I’m an adult, I didn’t get lost. We were separated, that’s all. I was just about to walk to our seats and wait for you guys there.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Let’s just stop wasting time,” Hank grumbled, and promptly disappeared into the crowd. You sighed.

 

“He was worried about you. He just didn’t want you to know,” Connor informed you quietly, and you laughed.

 

“That’s Hank for ya. Now come on, let’s get to our seats. The game’s starting soon,” You replied.

 

You let Connor lead the way, and you paid extra attention to always being within an arm’s length from his back. He seemed to be paying attention to you too. Every time you would lag behind, or someone would walk between you. He would look back and slow down until you were right behind him again. It was a sweet gesture, and intentional or not, it made you smile.

 

Finally, you made it down the aisle to your seats. Hank was right about them being premium; they were directly behind the dugout. You were so close to the field, you could almost reach out and steal the hat off of a player. It was nice to not have anyone in front of you, too. Not only that, but you also had the _aisle_ seats, so you could get up without having to awkwardly squeeze past people. It was one of the most perfect things you had ever seen.

 

“Wow, Connor, this is amazing!” You exclaimed as you sat down and leaned forward, staring in awe at the field. You turned to your left and elbowed him lightly. “We need to have you enter into contests more often!”

 

He smiled a smile that melted your heart into jelly.

 

“So… Are you excited for your first baseball game _ever_?” You asked as you crossed one ankle over another in all the leg room you had.

 

“I think so. I’m not sure excited is exactly the right word, but something like that,” He explained.

 

The pitcher threw the first pitch, and the gamer had officially begun.

 

 

 

During the top of the second inning, a batter from an opposing team hit a foul ball. It made contact with his bat and went up rather than out. It flew into the air, over the safety net, heading towards the crowd.

 

Connor looked at it, and stood up. You made way as he swiftly moved past you into the isle. You watched his curiously, as did several other audience members. Most people were too busy standing up to catch the ball as well to really notice him.

 

Connor stopped on the second step from the bottom of the aisle. He looked up at the ball again, shuffled a foot to the right, and held up his hand.

 

You watched in awe as the ball finished its arc and landed perfectly in the center of his outstretched hand.

 

“Nice one, Connor!” Hank cheered from his seat, and Connor smiled. You clapped, and Connor winked at you. You laughed, slightly confused.

 

You saw several people deflate, disappointed, and they all returned to their seats. All but one little boy wearing a baseball glove, who was still staring at the ball with big, sad eyes. Connor looked down at the boy as (what you assumed to be) his father came out from a row to beacon him back to his seats. Connor’s eyes went from the father, to the boy, to the ball in his hand.

 

Suddenly Connor crouched down, and he placed the ball in the young boy’s glove. He stared into his glove, almost as if it didn’t really happen, before he pulled the ball out and held it up to his dad, obviously excited. He turned around to Connor, who was still squatting on the ground, and ran to him and gave him a huge hug. Connor looked surprised at first, but he laughed and patted the kid on the back. The sheer amount of cuteness from the scene was almost overwhelming.

 

After that, your group continued to watch the game, which Connor seemed to really be enjoying. He and Hank talked about players from the past, the rules of the game, and generally what changed. He remained mostly stoic, but you did see his clap with the crowd, and the occasional muted cheer. Connor especially liked making predictions about how the players would pitch, hit, and even when the teams would get an out. He periodically leaned over to you to tell you about his latest hypothesis. You were enjoying yourself too. Being around Connor was slowly becoming less of a difficult task, and more natural. It was nice, to just be with the two of them. They were an odd family, but it worked for them.

 

It was the bottom of the fourth inning when you heard your stomach growl.

 

“I’m hungry. I’m going to grab some food before the lines get ridiculously long,” You announced as you stood up. You pushed your way onto the stairs and started to climb.

 

“Wait,” Someone called from behind you, and you turned and saw Connor rise out of his chair. “I’ll go with you.”

 

“Okay, cool. Let’s go!” You beckoned to him, and together the two of you climbed up the aisle to the covered walkway. You smiled discretely as he fell in step with you.

 

Despite the fact that you had gone early, there were still tons of people at the concession stands and food carts. You sighed.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to know which concession stand has the shortest line, would you?” You said loudly over the roar of the crowd. When you didn’t get a response, you turned around. “Connor - Oh my god Connor NO!”

 

You raced over to grab his arm as his two extended fingers made contact with the puddle of beer he was kneeling next to. You pulled him to his feet, and, half-laughing, half-scolding, yelled, “Connor, that’s disgusting! Don’t do that!”

 

He at least looked slightly remorseful as he apologized. “Sorry. I saw it and couldn’t resist.”

 

“Go wash your hands! I’ll wait for you in this line here,” You ordered as you directed him to the bathroom. You watched him as he walked away, and you laughed. He was basically a puppy sometimes. You shook your head, and took your place in line.

 

You were still a fair number of people from the front when Connor returned. You waved him over and he fell into line next to you.

 

“I’m not sure what to get,” You explained.

 

“Everything’s grotesquely unhealthy and overpriced,” Connor mused. “But, based on the amount of food for the value, the meal packages are the best deals.”

 

“Pshhh, nobody goes to a baseball game to _save_ money. Might as well get whatever I want.”

 

Connor half-shrugged, and you looked up at the menus on the hologram screens. You were deciding between two options when a stranger’s conversation got your attention.

 

“What about that one?”

 

“Hm. Nice ass, and great hair. Definitely a smash.”

 

You instantly straightened up and crossed your arms, red-hot anger clouding your mind, leaving only a strong desire to rip their throats out. Were they even talking about you? It didn’t matter, because nobody is allowed to objectify _anyone_ like they were. You glanced over at two men sitting at a table nearby, staring right at you- not even _you,_ your body. One of the made eye contact and you quickly tried to make it look like you were still examining the menu. You weren’t sure what to do. Confront them or ignore them? You settled on ignore, and you made your best efforts to calm down and drown them out.

 

“Did you see that? Do you think-” One of them asked the other.

 

“Nah, nobody can hear us, it’s too loud in here,” The first one reassured him. “You’re right though, that one’s a smash for sure. I’d love to see those pretty lips around my-”

 

“Excuse me,” You watched in horror as Connor stepped out of line and stood in front of them. “It would be wise to _shut your mouth before I do it for you._ ”

 

“Connor, they’re just some idiots. They probably only have one brain cell between the two of them. Besides, they’re obviously drunk. We can just go to another stand,” You grabbed his arm, but he wouldn’t budge.

 

“Oh, I get it, this is your little toy robot,” One of them said as he stood up, completely ignoring Connor. “Come on, honey, come home with me and I’ll show you what a real man is like.”

 

“Is that really the best you can come up with? Disappointing, just like your undoubtedly microscopic dick that fuels your low self-esteem, which you feel the need to compensate for by objectifying strangers. God, I really hope neither of you reproduce. And if this is your way of finding dates, I have nothing to worry about,” You quipped back, your body absolutely shaking with fury.

 

The other man got up as well and looked like he was about to respond, but Connor slammed his hands down on the table and leaned in threateningly. You had only ever seen him like that when he was interrogating criminals. Every time, it surprised you with how undeniably _hot_ it was.

 

“Now, once again, I’ll make a deal with you. Stop talking, or I will _snap your tiny dick in half,_ ” The words dripped out of Connor’s mouth like acid, slow and menacing. He tilted his head. “Chad Stevens. You’re 29 years old, and still living in your mother’s basement. I bet she would _love_ it if you brought a stranger home and explained to her how you two met when you were catcalling. And Bryce Wellington, a college dropout of 28 years, still working at the 7-11 on Jefferson Avenue. Yes, the two of you are incredibly qualified to judge others.”

 

You and the two men stared at him, although, you looked amazed, while they looked terrified.

 

“How did you-”

 

Suddenly, Connor reached out and grabbed the man by his shirt collar. All the color drained from his face as Connor shook him slightly and hissed through gritted teeth, “ _When I said I would snap your dick in half, was I not being clear?”_

 

The man only shook his head dumbly, and Connor dropped him. He landed heavily on his feet, and his friend grabbed his arm and beckoned. He looked back at the two of you one more time, before the two of them sped off.

 

“Oh my god that was crazy,” You laughed, feeling exhilarated. You looked over at Connor, who was staring at them like he wasn’t finished with them. His chest was rising up and down rapidly from his artificial lungs, as though he needed extra air to cool off. He could be downright _scary_ sometimes, and you would have been afraid if it wasn’t so attractive. “Connor, come on. It’s okay. Let’s go get food somewhere else.”

 

You began to walk away, and after a moment, he turned around and joined you. The two of you walked in silence for a while, before you felt something very warm and solid grab your hand.

 

You jumped in surprise, and you clutched your hear at you looked down at your intertwined fingers, then back up at him. “Connor! You gave me a heart attack! What are you doing?”

 

“If we appear as a couple, you might not be harassed,” He explained quietly, still looking ahead.

 

You stayed silent for a bit, torn between the sweet gesture and the fact that you _weren’t a couple._ His hand in yours would have been comforting, if it wasn’t causing you to go into a state of panic. He was holding. Your HAND. You could feel your blood pressure rising every second, and you desperately hoped that he wouldn’t notice (or at least say anything about) your sweaty palms. You did a quick mental calming exercise, and you nodded.

 

“Okay. Sure. That makes sense, I guess. Come on, I _really_ want some cotton candy.” You said as you headed towards the nearest snack cart.

 

Connor refused to let go of your hand while you ordered, except for one point when you had gone up on your toes to point at a drink. You lost your balance slightly, and Connor released his iron grip on your hand and grabbed your waist to steady you. You didn’t know if it was appearing as a couple, or just a nice gesture, but either way, it made your knees weaker that losing your balance did.

 

After you bought your snacks, you glanced back at the field and saw that it was still the top of the 5th. “I’m not ready to sit down yet. You mind coming with me on an adventure?”

 

“An adventure?” Connor repeated. His hand in yours didn’t feel like a weight anymore. It was more natural, like a continuation of your arm. It _was_ comforting.

 

“Yeah! I was just planning on going on a walk or something, maybe up to the second floor to see what it’s like. Nothing super fancy.”

 

“Then no, I don’t mind.” He affirmed, and you smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze.

 

“Well then, to the stairs!” You picked up the pace and pulled him along as you searched for the quickest route up.

 

The two of you traversed through the building until Connor finally spotted some stairs, and the two of you made your way to the balcony level. You led the way down past rows of (considerably more empty) seats, until you reached a nice ledge with handrails. You leaned over the edge and stared at all the people below. They looked so small and far away.

 

“Wow, it’s a lot higher than I thought it would be. Oh, look, there’s Hank! HI HANK!” You called as you waved theatrically. “Either he can’t see us, or he’s pretending not to know us, both equally possible. What do you think?”

 

You didn’t get a response, which worried you. “Connor?”

 

You looked back, and saw him, still several feet away from the edge. He had a stoic expression you recognized as his “I’m bottling something up” expression. You stepped over to him. “Connor? Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” He blurted, and he took another step back. Any amount of worried you were immediately doubled. You were a detective, after all.

 

“What’s wrong?” You questioned, concerned.

 

“I…” He began, uncertain. You gave his hand what you hoped was a reassuring squeeze. He looked away, as if he was remembering something. “I don’t think I’m a fan of heights.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I had no idea! Here, we’ll just go back downstairs,” You offered, and Connor nodded quietly. As the two of you went down the stairs, you apologized again. “I’m sorry about that.”

 

“You didn’t know. I’m not sure I knew either,” He averted your eyes, and you felt your heart deflate just a tiny bit.

 

“Stairs and spiders, huh?” You tried to break the tension. “We’re an odd pair, aren’t we?”

 

“Don’t forget stage fright,” He teased. Your heart re-inflated as he smiled at you, and you smiled brightly back.

 

“Let’s get back to our seats, before Hank gets pissed.”

 

. . .

 

By the time you got back to your seats, it was well into the sixth inning. In fact, it seemed like the teams were switching sides already. You and Connor settled back into your seats, and you dug into your food.

 

You watched as the image on the jumbo-screen switched from the players entering the dugouts to the audience. A Pepto-Bismol pink and crimson heart filter with the words “KISS CAM” in bold appeared over two people in the crowd. Hank audibly groaned.

 

“You don’t like the kiss cam?” You asked as the man on the screen leaned in and planted a hearty kiss on the woman’s lips.

 

“It’s just five whole minutes of meaningless PDA. Five minutes of people putting their personal lives on display for _entertainment,_ ” Hand rubbed his eyes. “I’d rather shoot myself with my gun than watch this.”

 

You snorted, but Connor froze up as his led spun an alarmed yellow. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Lieutenant. That’s not conductive for a healthy mental attitude.”

 

Hank glared at Connor. “I was joking! I can never catch a fucking break, can I?” Hand crossed his arms and turned back to the screen. Connor looked like he was about to make a rebuttal, but you grabbed his arm.

 

“It’s probably best to give him some space. Don’t worry about it, Connor, he’s not that mad. Besides, I bet he secretly likes the Kiss Cam and is too ashamed to admit it,”

 

“Nope,” Hank took a swig of his beer as you raised your eyebrows at him, entirely unconvinced.

 

“He at least likes the parts where one person tries to kiss the other and they get slapped or something,” You snickered. Hank shrugged and made a face that just said “eh.”

 

“Does that happen often?” Connor asked, clearly curious.

 

“It happens _sometimes,_ but not a lot. Almost every game someone gets rejected, but only once in a while something physical happens. When it does, the crowd always goes _nuts._ ” You leaned in close to whisper, and Connor watched your face closely as he leaned in as well. You gulped before you continued quietly, “One time I saw a guy try to kiss a woman who was saying no, and he just wouldn’t stop, so she picked up his beer and dumped it on his head.”

 

Connor laughed, a short quiet blurt. You couldn’t help but smile.

 

“It sounds like he deserved it,” Connor remarked, and you nodded.

 

“Oh, yeah, definitely. She kept saying no, but he just wouldn’t leave her alone. Too bad the beer accidentally splashed onto the other people sitting around them. The camera cut off them, but I heard that there was a full-on… brawl…” You trailed off halfway, every emotion draining out of you except for disbelief and terror. Your stomach sank down into the dugout below you, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you had never breathed before in your entire life. On all the screens in the stadium, your face was staring right back at you, pale and fearful, right next to Connor. Surrounded by those sickly sweet hearts, the two of you sat under the bolded words of “KISS CAM.”

 

Suddenly it all made sense.

 

The hand-holding. The joking. The whispering. To any other person it would have looked like the two of you were undoubtedly a couple. It really wasn’t the camera operator’s fault. They were just doing their job. They made a reasonable assumption. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because there you were, flushed and shaking, on the screens, in front of everyone.

 

Hank suddenly started to laugh uproariously, dying in his seat. He was wheezing and sputtering uncontrollably. You could hear some of the audience doing the same, which only made you want to sink into your seat and disappear.

 

What were you supposed to do? No matter what it looked like, you and Connor weren’t a couple. He didn’t like you back. Were you supposed to do nothing? Would that have hurt his feelings? Or were you supposed to kiss him, and risk making things _more_ awkward? Or worse, would he reject you then and there? You didn’t know what to do. Your palms were slick with sweat, and you didn’t need to look at the screen to know your face was red. You were frozen, glued to your spot in your seat, your face still incredibly close to Connor’s. You couldn’t bear to look at him, though. Your eyes were stuck on the screen, unblinking.

 

“What-?” Connor turned to Hank, presumably to see what all his laughter was about. As he turned, his LED appeared in the screen.

 

And an audible _gasp_ swept across the stadium.

 

There was a huge commotion as everyone in the stadium murmured to whoever was sitting next to them. Hushed voices came from every direction and surrounded you, the whispered sound of “android” ringing over all the rest.

 

You looked around at the hundreds of people, all mumbling amongst themselves, and suddenly you weren’t scared anymore.

 

You were _furious._

 

How _dare_ they sit and gossip about the two of you? How _dare_ they assume that an android can’t find love? How _dare_ they believe that an android and a human couldn’t be together? How could they be such close-minded, bigoted assholes to even _think_ things like that, let alone whisper about it as you and Connor were displayed on screen, for all to see?

 

You couldn’t just sit idly and let it happen. You couldn’t do nothing. For _Connor’s_ sake, not your own. You couldn’t be embarrassed about the idea of being with him. That would make you just as bad as the rest of them. No. You wouldn’t let _anyone_ treat him like an _object._

You felt your hands curl into fists as you turned to Connor, a fierce, determined look in your eyes. He was looking at the screens as well, jaw clenched, LED rapidly swirling amber. It broke your heart to think about how the prejudice must have made him feel. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves. Your insides felt like they were being blended into mush, but you ignored it. You shakily pulled his hand from its position, gripped tightly to the armrest, and gave it a squeeze.

 

Connor turned to look at you, but before your eyes could meet, you grabbed and held on to the side of his face with your free hand and leaned in.

 

You closed your eyes as your lips met his cheek, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was warm. You couldn’t tell at all that his skin was synthetic. Because of the way his head had moved, your lips caught the corner of his mouth, and your heart felt like it skipped a beat. You were trying to stop yourself from shaking when Connor gently pulled the hand that was holding his face steady down and intertwined your fingers with his. You felt like you were going to melt again.

 

It had only been a few seconds, but the kiss felt like years. You pulled back and opened your eyes. When you looked over, Connor had leaned towards you slightly, as if to prolong the kiss. If you weren’t panicking internally and trying not to freak out, you would have laughed.

 

Connor’s cheeks were a bright red that almost matched his LED. He was staring at you with a completely indecipherable expression on his face, wedged somewhere between shock and confusion. You couldn’t see yourself, but you knew for a fact that you were tomato red. Your entire body was hot with embarrassment, and you were shaking with fear. You just prayed that your hands weren’t too sweaty, but you feared that they probably were. The two of you started at each other for a moment, dumbfounded, until your trance was broken by a sound that rumbled through the field.

 

You looked away from him, and out at the crowd. They were _cheering._ Of course, only a small amount of people were cheering, but it was a very vocal minority. There was still murmuring, but you ignored it. You smiled, and watched as the screen _finally_ switched off of you and Connor, and on to the next couple. You let go of Connor’s hand and sank into your chair, finally glad the attention was off of you. You covered your face with your elbow and let out a shaky breath, suddenly exhausted.

 

Hank promptly started roaring with laughter again, after he had momentarily fallen silent. You sighed.

 

There was relative silence for a while. Your legs felt like they were made out of slinky toys, and you didn’t even try to sit up. You just needed time to recover.

 

“Are you alright?” Connor’s voice came from somewhere, thousands of miles away.

 

You lifted up your arm, and squinted from the harsh sunlight. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

Connor didn’t respond, which was odd. You weakly sat up, and looked over, but you were distracted by the armrest.

 

Your left hand was still clasped tightly with Connor’s right.

 

You inhaled sharply, and quickly looked up at Connor. If he did notice it, he was certainly good at hiding it. Scratch that. He _definitely_ knew that he was still holding your hand. If he could hear you singing on the training deck all the way from upstairs, there was no way he couldn’t feel that your hands were intertwined.

 

He avoided your gaze and looked at the ground, which in some ways was more frightening than when he _did_ look at you. He opened his mouth, and you held your breath in anticipation.

 

“…Why?” he asked simply. He looked at you, an intense look on his face that you had only seen on him when he was interrogating criminals. Or perverts, in some cases.

 

“I-I couldn’t just let them sit there and, and whisper about us-about you! I had to do something!” You stammered as you played with the hem of your jersey. “I’m sorry, if I… went too far.”

 

“No,” Connor replied quickly, almost suspiciously so. You looked at him, eyebrows raised, and he went to fix his tie with one hand, before he realized that was wasn’t wearing a tie. “No. You’re fine.”

 

You sighed in relief. Some of the tension left your shoulders, but there was still the underlying feeling of _Oh god did you do the right thing._ You slowly pulled your hand out of his.

 

“Fucking hell, you two are INSUFFERABLE,” Hank all but shouted. “If I had known there would be this little baseball playing at a baseball _game_ I wouldn’t have come.”

 

You rolled your eyes. “You’ve been to plenty of these games before. You know what they’re like.”

 

“Yeah, but never with the two of _you._ ”

 

You looked at Connor, and he shrugged slightly. You exhaled quickly through your nose and smiled, relieved that some of the tension was broken. Maybe Hank did that on purpose. You were just glad that the game was almost over.

 

The inning ended, and soon it was the seventh-inning stretch. You and Connor stood up right away, and after some coercing, Hank shuffled to his feet as well.

 

“Ugh, they’re gonna sing now. I’m going to the bathroom,” Hank groaned before he pushed his way past you.

 

“Not much of a singer, Hank?” You teased.

 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off. Excuse me if I don’t want to sing a shitty song,” He responded. And with that, he made his way up the aisle and was gone (although he returned later with a tray of french fries, a burger and his third glass of beer for that evening, much to Connor’s dismay).

 

While Hank was gone, the crowd started to sing a slowed down, almost eerie version of “Take me out to the ball game.” Connor looked at you expectantly, and you gave him a blank stare.

 

“I think I feel another coughing fit coming on,” You said innocently. Connor snorted.

 

“Just like the one you had at my party?” He smirked.

 

“Exactly like that!” You said with faux amazement.

 

The rest of the game was eventful, but not in the romantic sense. The sun was setting by the bottom of the ninth, but the stadium was charged with anticipation. Two strikes. Three outs. The teams were tied, and the Tigers were up to bat. The bases were loaded, and everyone was on the edge of their seats. It was all up to this last pitch.

 

The pitcher wound back, and threw a ball so fast it seemed impossible to hit. Completely silence hung in the air as the ball flew towards the batter.

 

An ear splitting CRACK boomed through the stadium. There were gasps and shouts from all around as it flew through the air… right over the fence at the back of the stadium.

 

The crowd went WILD. Whoops and cheers echoed all around as the screaming fans rejoiced. All three people on base sprinted for home, and the announcer boomed, “HOME RUN FOR THE TIGERS!” It was the most amazing play you had ever seen.

 

“YES!” You yelled as you, and almost everyone else in the stadium, shot to your feet. You pumped a fist into the air, cheering.

 

“THERE WE GO! BEAT THOSE RED FUCKS!” Hank bellowed as he clapped, still seated.

 

“CONNOR! THEY DID IT! WE WON!” You shouted over the roaring crowd. You grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet, and he laughed.

 

You whooped as the batter made his way around the bases, and laughed when the pitcher threw his glove on the ground in defeat. The crowd was just going ballistic, with no signs of calming. The batter had just rounded third when you heard a shot from your left, and saw that Connor had cupped his hands around his mouth to cheer with the crowd. He really looked like he was enjoying himself. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes had a sparkle to them, a certain kind of liveliness that you hadn’t seen since the two of you adopted Cali.

 

He really looked… Alive.

 

You smiled, the pure joy that you felt from seeing him so happy almost overwhelming you. You smiled as you turned to the field again and resumed whooping and cheering.

 

The other Tigers players came out to celebrate as the batter stepped on home plate. The swarmed him, a huge mob of white and blue and orange in the middle of the field. It took a while, but eventually the cheering finally died down and the next player went up to bat. He took three strikes, got an out, and suddenly the game was over. The crowd roared again, and the Tigers shook hands with the opposing team.

 

“Holy shit that was spectacular,” Hank laughed. “In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like that happen.”

 

“I certainly wasn’t expecting that. Based on that particular player’s batting average, he shouldn’t have made that hit,” Connor explained.

 

“But he did! It’s a Christmas miracle!” You joked.

 

“But it’s September,” Connor stated, and you laughed. He smiled, and you guessed that he wasn’t being serious.

 

You stood up and stretched, standing on your tip-toes. “I am so sick of sitting in those seats. Let’s get out of here!”

 

Hank heaved himself out of his chair, and the three of you made your way up the stairs in the isle, and out into the normal walkway. The food stands and restaurants had all been closed, and metal screens had be pulled down over the counters. Half-empty boxes of popcorn and plastic cups littered the floor and filled the trash cans. People were leaving in droves, and the exit was blocked up. Your trio approached the crowd of people trying to exit and waited a little ways back.

 

“I feel bad for anyone who has to clean this place up afterwards,” You remarked, entirely sincerely. “Hey, Connor, do you remember where we parked?”

 

“Of course. I’ll be driving. Hank’s blood alcohol content is well over the legal limit,” Connor answered, and you nodded.

 

“Shut up,” Hank suddenly interrupted, and you frowned. You were about to speak when he continued, “Do you hear that?”

 

You and Connor stopped talking for a moment to listen, and you finally heard the commotion coming from the exit. You couldn’t make out voices, but you could hear shouting. _Angry_ shouting.

 

“What’re they saying Connor?” Hank asked. You looked up at his face and found deeply furrowed brows and a spinning yellow LED.

 

“They’re saying things like, “Where are they,” “Android fucker,” and “No androids.’” Connor responded, his voice hushed. You felt a chill go down your spine.

 

“Fuck,” Hank muttered, and he turned around and raked a hand through your hair. He took his Tigers hat off his head and jammed it on Connor’s. Connor seemed to understand right away, and he pulled it down as far as it would go. His LED still stuck out at the bottom, and you felt your anxiety kick into high gear.

 

“Wait, Connor,” You pulled the hat off and stuck your hand into his hair, only taking a moment to appreciate how soft it was before you started pulling chunks of it to the left. Connor only watched you with curious eyes as you combed his hair with your hands to try to make some of it cover his LED. In the end, you succeeded in covering it partially, and when you put the hat on again, it was slightly better.

 

“Take off your sweatshirt and carry it,” Hank instructed, and Connor complied, stripping off the heavy fabric and folding it neatly. “You’ll probably want to take your jersey off as well, kid.”

 

“Right,” You responded shakily. Your hands trembled as you shrugged off the jersey, suddenly incredibly cold. “What now?”

 

Hank was bust tying his hair back into a ponytail. He brought his hands down and looked you right in the eyes as he said, “We get out.”

 

You didn’t respond, frozen in place. A year after the revolution, and people still couldn’t accept Androids. You thought you did the right thing, but all you did was draw attention to yourself and your friends. It was all your fault, and now you were all in danger. You wrapped your arms around yourself slowly, half because of the cold, half because of the terror.

 

Connor put a comforting hand on your back, and you leaned into his warmth. He wrapped you in a tight hug, and you could tell that he was frightened too.

 

Suddenly, you heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind you. You turned and saw two tall men, a younger one dressed all in black with an earpieces and a black “SECURITY” hat on. An older man was with him, dressed in an orange collared shirt with an ID badge clipped to it. You breathed a sigh of relief, and stepped out of Connor’s arms to greet them.

 

“Gary, what this FUCK is this shit?” Hank blurted as he walked over to the older man.

 

“Nothing we can’t handle, Hank,” Gary responded, and Hank scoffed.

 

“It’s a fucking stampede, that’s what this is. How the hell are we supposed to get through that?” Hank roared, and Gary shushed him.

 

“We have a plan. Antonio, would you tell them about it?” Gary looked over at the stoic face of the guard next to him.

 

“Certainly,” Antonio nodded. “We have a side door used strictly for security and other employees. If you give me the location of your car I can get it for you and have it ready and waiting by the time you get there. From there you should be safe. Gary and I would escort you, but we’re afraid that it would attract too much attention. The exit isn’t far from here. Are you on board?”

 

“Yes. Just get us out,” You said immediately, before Hank could protest. To your surprise, he nodded in agreement.

 

“Just keep them safe. That’s your fucking JOB,” Hank jabbed a finger into Gary’s chest, and he swatted it away.

 

“If everything goes according to plan, you should be fine,” Antonio stepped over to Connor. “Just move fast, and keep your heads down. I’ll give you the location of the exit.”

 

Antonio suddenly grabbed Connor’s arm, and you made a noise, but Hank held up a hand. You watched in awe as the skin on Antonio’s hand disappeared, and was replaced with shiny white plastic. Connor’s hand responded the same way, and he blinked a few times.

 

“Oh, you’re an android,” You realized and said, rather dumbly. Antonio smiled politely. He stepped back, and nodded at Connor.

 

Connor turned his head to look down the hall, before he handed Antonio his car keys. “Got it. Let’s go.”

 

“Okay, I’m ready. Thank you so much Gary, Antonio. We really appreciate it,” You called as you and Hank started to follow Connor, who was already powerwalking away.

 

“Remember, keep your heads down!” Antonio reminded you. “Good luck!”

 

You nodded and turned to jog to catch up with Connor. He and Hank were silent as the three of you sped towards the side exit. You could see a sign above a door about 150 meters away that read “SECURITY,” and you sped up, desperate to get there. Unfortunately. There were still plenty of people left who also wanted to leave, Hank stood between you and Connor, which was probably for the best, but you desperately wanted to feel his warm, reassuring hand in yours again. You wanted some kind of comfort, but of course, it was too dangerous. You were already getting weird looks from strangers who were probably wondering where you were going in such a hurry.

 

You were maybe 50 meters from the door when you heard a man yell “HEY!”

 

Your fear flared up again, and you wanted to look back, but you knew you had to keep going forwards. You were about 45 meters away when he yelled “HEY! I’M TALKING TO YOU, ANDROID!”

 

You cringed, but kept moving. You were 30 meters away when you heard footsteps, and you cried out in pain as something hit you on the back of the head, _hard._ You froze as a cold liquid dripped down your back, and the air suddenly reeked of beer.

 

Connor and Hank spun around to find you almost doubled over in pain, your hair and clothes soaked with cheap ballpark bud lite. A plastic, reusable memorabilia beer mug sat in two pieces on the ground beside you. The footsteps were getting louder, and somewhere in your mind, you knew you needed to move, but you were frozen in shock.

 

“That’s what you get!” The voice growled, and you felt hands shove you to the ground. You yelped again, and winced as your palms scraped against the cold concrete. You felt the fabric on your knees rip, and you hastily tried to stand up. Your hands were dirty and scraped, and blood was leaking slowly from the deeper wounds, but your knee was relatively uninjured. Your pride was injured more than your body, and you shook violently as you rose to your feet.

 

“HEY!” You heard Connor’s voice shout from somewhere around you. You were still disoriented, and Hank helped you up as the mystery man and Connor approached each other.

 

“Connor’s let’s go-” You weakly cried out to him, but suddenly a loud SMACK echoed off the walls as Connor decked the guy in the jaw. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and Connor grabbed his arms and held them behind his back.

 

“GET OFF OF ME YOU FUCKING PLASTIC PIECE OF SHIT! I’LL KILL YOU! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU BELONGS IN THE TRASH!” The man writhed under Connor’s grip, his mouth dripping blood onto the floor.

 

“DPD! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!” Connor shouted over the man’s mindless insults. He looked insane, his hair disheveled, his LED bright scarlet, and his eyes on fire with fury. You noticed that his clothes were also stained with beer, and you inferred that the mug was probably meant to hit him.

 

“FUCK YOU!” The man yelled, and Hank got out his wallet with his badge and started to run over. By now a group of onlookers had formed, and you were suddenly aware of the fact that you were _covered in beer._

 

“Go get security!” Hank called to you, waving you away. “We can handle this! Go!”

 

“No! Don’t go alone!” Connor argued at the same time, but it was too late. You were already running to the door. You ducked under an empty popcorn box thrown at you, and pushed open the security door. Inside was a hallway, with one side housing a break room and the other a room with a bunch of surveillance camera screens. You panted in the doorway for a second, and five security guards looked up from their game of cards. They all looked at each other, then at your beer-soaked form, and immediately they shot up. Four of them went outside, and the fifth one grabbed a towel from somewhere and handed it to you.

 

“Thanks,” You huffed as you took it and started to dry your hair with it. “I’m with-”

 

“I know who you are,” She stated, and you looked at her. “Everyone in the stadium does. We all saw. Taking off a jersey isn’t a great disguise,” She began as she helped you dry the beer off of your shirt.

 

“Yeah. Sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize. You’re safe now. We’ll get you to your car.”

 

“Thank you,” You breathed, and she sat you down in a chair. You winced every time there was a shout from outside.

 

“You were really brave. You know that, right?” The security guard asked, and you shook your head.

 

“I drew attention to us. It was stupid, and irresponsible, and everything that’s happening right now is my fault.” You held the towel closer, almost on the verge of tears.

 

“Others will never change what they think about androids unless people like you fight for them,” She murmured. “Besides. I didn’t say whether or not you made the right decision. I said you were really brave. And that’s the truth.”

 

Suddenly the door burst open, and Connor was there, his eyes scanning the room until they met yours.

 

“Are you alright? You’re hurt,” He said as he rushed over to you and grabbed your palms to peer at them.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Hank called from the doorway as he shuffled in. “Let’s just fucking go!”

 

“I agree with Hank, let’s get out of here,” You stand, and give the woman back the towel.

 

She nodded. “Antonio is waiting for you. Go out that door down the hall, and keep going straight. Good luck.”

 

“Thank you. For everything,” You looked around at the security guards, and last to the unconscious man in handcuffs. Connor placed a hand on your back and pushed you forwards.

 

“All of this over a fucking kiss,” Hank grumbled as the three of you walked to the door.

 

You looked at a very focused, determined-looking Connor, and you wondered if that was what life would be like with him. Always running from people who wanted to hurt you. Being subjected to prejudice and hate. You didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it.

 

You didn’t know if you loved him enough for it.

 

You guiltily shook that thought from your mind as Hank opened a pair of double doors under an exit sign. Suddenly you were met with the cold nighttime city air, and you sighed. Hank’s car was sitting, parked just down the street. Antonio was standing next to the hood, anxiously surveying the area.

 

“Are you three alright?” He asked as you approached.

 

“More or less,” Hank answered. “Thanks. Tell Gary to get his shit together before I come down here and beat his ass.”

 

Antonio smiled. “Can-do, Mr. Anderson. Have a nice night.”

 

The three of you piled into Hank’s car wordlessly, and Connor drove away.

 

“Roll up the windows,” Connor instructed, and you did as you were told.

 

The rest of the ride was done in silence.

 

. . .

 

“I’m _fine,_ Connor,” You whined as rubbing alcohol stung into the scrapes on your palms.

 

“No, you’re _not,_ ” He retorted, and the anger in his voice made you recoil. You pulled your hands away, but he grabbed them and resumed cleaning them. “You’re lucky this was the only injury, they could have really hurt you.”

 

“I can do this myself,” You tried to pull away again, but he held on, still scrubbing away the dirt and grime from your palms.

 

“It’s better this way,” Connor put your hands under the faucet, and you winced as the cold water struck your skin. He dried them with a clean towel as he angrily explained, “I can scan and properly disinfect the wound.”

 

“What, and you think I _can’t_?” You whipped your hands back, but he was too quick and stanched them up again. You teetered on the edge of your bathtub. “You don’t have to do this!”

 

“I do need to do this,” He interjected as he picked up another alcohol wipe from the first aid supplies strewn haphazardly on the tiles around the tub. “Stop moving. It would go faster if you would cooperate.”

 

“No, you _don’t_ need to do this _._ Do you think I can’t take care of myself?” You snarled. You grimaced as he wiped your hands with alcohol again. He didn’t say anything, and you laughed in disbelief. “You _do_ think I can’t take care of myself!”

 

“No! I don’t think that, and I never have!” He exclaimed as he applied bandages to your palms. He finally let go, and your anger dissolved into guilt and worry as he placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Maybe you went a little bit too far. You gently placed a hand on his back and rubbed little circles on his shoulder blades.

 

“Hey. I’m sorry. I know you’re just worried, and I really appreciate it. But I _can_ take care of myself. We’re both a little frazzled from what happened today. It’s ok,” You murmured soothingly. Suddenly, he snatched your arm and held it in the air between you, and you almost fell backwards off the edge of the bathtub. The intensity of his eyes on yours stunned you into silence.

 

“It’s _not_ okay,” He growled, holding on to your arm tightly. “You’re hurt, and I let it happen. It’s my fault that you were in danger. I shouldn’t even be around you.”

 

“Connor, no. It was my fault that so much attention was drawn to us. I should have known better, I should have thought about the consequences,” You insisted as you pried his hands off of your arm. “Besides, what we could have done differently is in the past. We can’t change it, so there’s no use worrying about it. We all made it out ok, and I’m fine.”

 

“You don’t understand. Just by being around you, I put you in danger. The only way to insure that you are safe is for me to stay as far away from you as possible.”

 

“So why are you here?” You challenged him, and he looked away. A tense silence hung in the air, neither one of you daring to move, or speak, or, in your case, even breathe.

 

Connor leaned over and turned off the bath faucet. He watched the water drain out of the tub as he whispered, “I don’t know. Even with all the logical reasons to leave you alone, I can’t stand the thought of not being around you. That’s what makes this so difficult!”

 

You sighed as you looked at him. He was a mess. His hair was completely messed up from your efforts to cover his LED. His clothes were soaked, and his shirt was stained with beer. There were tiny splotches of dirt, blood and thirium specked sporadically around his body. Not to mention the heartbreaking expression of pure anguish he had on his face. Everything about him just screamed _I am not ok._

 

You gently scooted close to him and wrapped your arms around him. You rested your head on his shoulder, and he froze. “I’m not going to leave you, Connor. So stop trying right now. We both know that’s not going to work.”

 

There was a moment of silence before he let out something between a cry and a whimper, and he melted into your hug. You resumed rubbing circles on his back as he shook in your arms.

 

“I was so scared,” He choked out in between his silent sobs. You felt your own tears running down your cheeks, leaving glistening trails on your face. You breathed in a shuddering breath. “When he knocked you down, I just felt so _angry_ and terrified, and I couldn’t think. I... I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

 

“I know. I was scared too. But please, don’t ever feel like you’re a burden on us, because you’re not. I don’t care that you’re an android. I just care about _you,_ ” You assured him.

 

Suddenly he broke away. He looked nervous, but he maintained eye contact. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

 

“I’m listening,” You offered, feeling as nervous as he looked. You were getting your hopes up. It wasn’t anything serious. You breathed deeply as he continued.

 

“I... I...” He looked like he was trying to find the right words. You wondered how much new information he was receiving every minute, how much data he had to process and compartmentalize in seconds. In the end, he sighed and gave up. “Never mind.”

 

“That’s okay,” You reassured him. “I’m always here to talk if you need it.”

 

“Thank you,” He went to fix his nonexistent tie again, and you laughed lightly. You wrapped him in another hug, which he gladly reciprocated. It felt so safe, and warm in his arms. So _right._ It was so enchanting, you never felt like leaving. His hugs had the supernatural power to make you feel like everything was okay, even when it wasn’t. “I’m sorry I was so angry.”

 

“Don’t apologize for having emotions. It’s what you do about those emotions that counts. Besides, I forgive you.”

 

He only sighed and pressed his body closer to yours. It was a comforting warmth, one that was completely welcomed and, to a lesser extent, needed. You pondered only for a moment what this meant about your relationship. After all, friends don’t sit on each other’s bathtubs and cuddle. It wasn’t cuddling. Was it? No, it was an emotional support hug.

 

The two of you had sat in comfortable silence for a while before Connor spoke. “What are you humming?”

 

“What?”

 

“You were humming. What song was it?”

 

“I wasn’t humming.”

 

“Yes, you were.”

 

“No, I wasn’t.”

 

Connor said you name in a scolding tone, and you giggled.

 

“Maybe I was and I just didn’t notice it. I hum all the time, so that’s not too ridiculous of a thought.”

 

 “You have a very nice voice,” Connor started, and you rolled your eyes as you braced yourself for the question that he would undoubtedly ask next. “Will you sing something?”

 

“No,” You announced, and he sighed. “Maybe someday. But not today.”

 

“I guess I’ll have to keep asking until then,” He teased, and you laughed.

 

“You do that,” You smiled into his shoulder.

 

It was another few moments before Connor broke away from the hug. “It’s late. I should go. Hank’s probably wondering where I am.”

 

“Yeah, probably,” You mumbled as you stood up. You desperately wanted him to stay, but you knew Hank would get suspicious and nosy if Connor wasn’t back soon.

 

You trailed behind as Connor made his way to the front door.

 

“...Y’know, despite the way it ended, I’m still really glad you invited me today. I had a lot of fun. It would have been perfect without the...” You trailed off unsure of how to end your sentence. Luckily Connor understood.

 

“Yeah. I was right, it was more fun with you there.” He smiled, and sent a wave of pure adoration through you. He had no idea how spectacular he was. “Goodnight, Detective.”

 

“Goodnight, Connor,” You replied, and you smiled despite the nagging feeling in your chest. It was only when he pulled your door open that you called out, “Hey, wait.”

 

He turned to face you, his head slightly tilted. “Yes?”

 

“Listen, I’m sorry about the kiss. I feel like I maybe... overstepped my bounds? I don’t really like that phrase, but you know what I mean. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t just sit there while every racist asshole in the park whispered about you. I feel pretty bad about it, and it was a really stupid, rash decision and I’m just… really sorry. If... if you want, we can pretend like none of that ever happened,” By the time you finished your spiel you were rambling, and talking twice as fast as normal. Your nails dug into the skin of your arm as you felt the familiar feelings of self-loathing and regret.

 

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind at all,” Connor tried to accept your apology, but you shook your head.

 

“It’s not okay! It was... it was non-consensual, and probably not wanted, and I just feel so guilty, so I’m sorry,” You cried, averting your eyes. You only looked up when you felt his hand reach up to grab your face.

 

You could barely process what was happening as he slowly leaned in and gently pressed his lips to your cheek. His lips were warm, and surprisingly wet, and they sent a shiver up your spine. You had to physically restrain yourself from grabbing his face and making out with him right then and there. You really wanted to, though. Oh how you wanted to.

 

Connor leaned back, and looked at you with an expression similar to being star-struck, which was exactly how you felt. You could just barely feel his artificial breath on your cheek as he said, “There. Now we’re even.”

 

You shuddered as he took a step back and rose to his full height.

 

“Uh, yeah. Okay. Um. I’ll uh, see you later. A-at work.” You stammered, and he laughed. You saw that his face was a few shades redder than normal, and the way his coin rolled across his knuckles. You may have been a mess, but you were still a detective. You smiled, part sheepishly and part knowingly as he turned and exited your house.

 

“Have a nice night,” He waved farewell from Hank’s car, and you waved back. You kept waving until he had gotten in the car, rolled out of your driveway, and was gone. It was only then that you closed and locked your door, and promptly dropped your head onto it.

 

You didn’t have time to wallow in whatever strange melancholic and overjoyed feeling it was you were wallowing in for long.

 

You still absolutely reeked of beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that is is just an absolute colossus of a chapter. I might have gotten carried away. Also with like... the story, rather than the relationship. I see that happening in fics a lot, where a ship fic drifts away from the ship itself and over to the original story. It makes me wish that the author would just write a novel with new characters. 
> 
> If Connor sacrifices himself in the first mission and falls off the roof to kill Daniel, he’ll have a “fear” of heights for the rest of the game. In the Stratford tower investigation, if you make Connor look off the edge of the roof, he’ll back away super fast, and I just think that’s neat.
> 
> But anyway, thank you for reading! I hope you liked it despite how long it was! Sorry about repeating phrases, it's hard to be original with... 10146 words. Thank you!


	11. Superstition

You woke up before your alarm, roused by the sound of your phone ringing on the nightstand next to you. You groaned and shoved your face into your pillow, wishing desperately for some more sleep. You sighed, flipped over and grabbed your phone.

 

It was a call from Hank, and you suddenly felt incredibly uneasy and confused. Why on earth would Hank call you? You heaved yourself up into a sitting position and answered the call.

 

“TURN ON YOUR FUCKING TV RIGHT NOW,” You held the phone as far away from your ears as possible as Hank’s voice boomed from the speakers.

 

“Why? What’s going on?” You asked as you tiredly rubbed your eyes, slightly slurring your words.

 

“WHY? WE’RE ON THE FUCKING NEWS BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKING DUMBASS KISS, THAT’S FUCKING WHY!” Hank yelled, and you immediately shot to your feet.

 

“WHAT!?” You shouted, and you raced out of your room and down the hall. “Television, on! Channel 16!”

 

“-you, Michael. Yes, as you just heard, a riot erupted after the Tiger’s game last night, and it wasn’t caused by angry Cubs fans. No, this riot was in response to an event that took place just a few hours earlier in the game,” You listened to the news reporter Joss Douglass, who was  standing outside the entrance to Comerica Park. You watched in disbelief as he continued, “Instead of scores, these fans were outraged by _this_ video, recorded and submitted anonymously to channel 16 last night.”

 

Your mouth gaped, and you almost dropped your phone as the screen switched to display a video someone took on their phone. You dug your nails into your arm as the recorder focused in on the jumbo-tron, which was sporting the Kiss Cam filter. You watched in horror as your face appeared on the screen, right next to Connor’s.

 

You scrunched your eyes shut and turned away, unwilling to re-live the moment. You listened as Joss Douglass narrated what was perhaps the most nearsighted, irresponsible decision you had ever made.

 

“The video starts off innocently enough, with two young people, presumably a couple, on the Kiss Cam. But then, once the man in the Tigers sweatshirt turns his head, it is revealed that he is, in fact, an android. The crowd is shocked as the android’s assumed partner holds his hand and kisses his cheek. The video ends on a divided crowd, with some cheering for the young couple, and some booing.”

 

You opened your eyes again once you were sure the video was over. The screen was back on Joss, standing under the tiger stature outside of the park. He leaned into the microphone as he continued, “While human/android relationships are not unheard of, they are uncommon, and typically very private. And although it has been almost a year since the android revolution, the population of Detroit is still incredibly divided on the issue of android rights. This rift has never been more apparent that in the events that took place last night.”

 

The scene shifted to Joss standing inside the deserted stadium, walking past the rows of chairs with the diamond in the background.

 

“Even more shocking is the discovery of the identities of the couple. Both are homicide detectives for the DPD, accompanied by Lieutenant Hank Anderson,” All three of your official work pictures appeared on screen, and you gaped. Your mouth went dry, and you felt like someone was constricting your lungs. “The android has been confirmed to be the RK800, originally a prototype detective android given to the DPD nearly a year ago, to assist in their investigation on Deviants. It’s the very same android that infiltrated Cyberlife tower and led thousands of deviants through the streets on November 11th last year.”

 

“What?! How do they know so much about us?” You exclaimed, shocked beyond belief.

 

“When you help lead a revolution, people tend to know who you are,” Hank answered, and you put your head in your hands.

 

“While some support the two, many angry fans protested and blocked the exits to the park, hoping to catch them. The three made it out safely with the help of the park’s security. Only one person has been arrested for assaulting the group, although his identity is remaining anonymous for safety purposes.”

 

“Oh, yeah, they keep _him_ anonymous, but not us! Real fair,” You snarked.

 

“Yeah, well, life isn’t fair, especially not the local news,” Hank said, rather unsympathetically.

 

“Thanks, _Dad,_ ” You mumbled.

 

“What was that?” Hank demanded.

 

“Nothing, nothing,” You sighed, and reluctantly continued watching.

 

“What this means for the future of android and human co-existence, we’re not sure, but stay tuned after the break for exclusive interviews with eye-witness as they recount their experience at the game last night. I’m Joss Douglass, with Channel 16 news.”

 

“TV, off,” You shakily rubbed your eyes as the TV flickered to black. You suddenly felt sick. “Oh my God.”

 

“Yeah,” Hank announced, simply.

 

“How’s Connor handling it?”

 

“He hasn’t said anything all morning. I think he’s broken. He’s just staring at the screen.”

 

You groaned, now double-worried.

 

“What do I do, Hank? THOUSANDS of people watch the morning news!” You almost whined, feeling panic slipping into your voice.

 

“Do nothing,” Hank replied quickly, and you looked at your phone uncertainly. “Don’t speak to anyone about it. Just show them you’re not fazed. This will all die down eventually. Don’t start any fights, you heard me?”

 

You hesitated for a moment, before you nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I can do that. I’m ok. Thanks, Hank. I have to get ready, now, so, I guess I’ll see you guys at work.”

 

“It’ll be fine, kid. Just lay low.”

 

“Okay. No problem. See you later,” You ended the call, and flopped back on the couch.

 

You didn’t know how you were going to get through this. But you had to. You were an adult. You had to keep moving forward, and get on with your life. Everything would be ok.

 

You heaved yourself of the couch, and started your day.

 

. . .

 

All you wanted was to keep your head down when you arrived at the station. You hoped nobody would notice you, that you could just go on with your life as if nothing happen. You hoped you could do your work and not talk to _anyone,_ especially not anyone who had watched the news that morning.

 

Of course, that didn’t happen.

 

Connor rushed up to you the minute you stepped into the station.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he reached out to take off your jacket for you. You swatted him away and he took a respectful step back and tucked his hands behind his back.

 

“I’m okay,” You sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know. Has anyone said anything yet?”

 

“We’ve been getting strange looks all morning, but nobody has approached us yet. I believe that’s partially due to Hank’s... aggression.” Connor explained.

 

“Oh, he’s making the face, isn’t he? The brooding, angry, “I’m going to straight-up murder you if you try to talk to me” face?”

 

“Do you mean this one?” Connor responded, and his face fell into an exact replica of Hank’s bitchface. You laughed, and Connor’s angry impersonation fell as he smiled. You didn’t realize how much you needed to laugh until you did.

 

Your laughing stopped as you looked past the dividers and into the office. All your coworkers would probably stare, and whisper. You didn’t want to have to face them. You just wanted to curl up into a ball with blankets and eat comfort food until you forgot all about the game. You just wanted things to go back to normal. You just wanted to be okay.

 

Connor looked over his shoulder, following your line of sight. He turned back around and held your arm lightly as he asked, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m just... I just don’t really, um,” You cleared your throat and looked away. “Want to be here today. But I have to. So it’s fine.”

 

“I think I know what you mean,” Connor nodded. He pulled out his coin and you watched as the DPD logo spun around and around on his fingers. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable, nervous even. You felt a twinge of guilt as you realized that however this whole debacle was affecting you, it was affecting _him_ twice as much. You couldn’t even imagine how much prejudice and hate he received every day.

 

Connor’s eyes avoided yours as he suddenly asked, “Would you... like a hug?”

 

You were surprised, but you quickly nodded and leaned into him. His sturdy arms gently wrapped around you as you buried your face in his shirt. You sighed contently and shifted, to take in as much warmth as possible. He was your lifeline, in a way. Dependable. Always there for you. Impossibly selfless. He smelled like fabric softener and some kind of clean but welcoming soapy scent. You never wanted to let go.

 

“I could stay with you, if you’d like,” Connor offered quietly.

 

You thought about it for a moment. It was tempting, the idea of him staying by your side that day. But that would only lead to more whispering and gossiping. Besides, you were an adult, and you could handle yourself.

 

“I appreciate it, but no. We both need to just… act normal, y’know? I’ll be fine,” You thought for a moment, before you shifted in his arms to look up at him. “What about _you_? Are you okay?”

 

Connor looked stumped, and he remained silent, which was worrying. “I think I’m okay,” He answered, hesitantly. “I feel… normal. But there’s also this lingering feeling that something horrible is going to happen. I feel like I’m fine, but in a way, I’m also… not. Does that make any sense?”

 

“Sure it does. That sounds like some kinda mixture of anxiety, dread, and… repressed emotions. I feel the exact same way.”

 

“That’s comforting,” He joked, sarcastically, and you snorted.

 

“We should probably go in now, huh?” You peeked over his shoulder, and watched your co-workers. It seemed like nobody had noticed you yet, which you were grateful for. Maybe you could sneak to your desk without anyone seeing you. “Is it too late to call in sick?”

 

“Hypothetically, no. You _could_ still feign sickness, but you are already here. As for me, I now legally have vacation days, but it would be a bit more difficult for me to take a sick day.”

 

You laughed, a nice reprieve from all the stress and uncertainty you had felt that morning.

 

Connor shifted, and you reluctantly stepped out of his arms. You wished you could hold on to his hand for strength and protection, like at the game. But that would be… inappropriate, to say the least.

 

You were so confused. You didn’t know _what_ you and Connor were. Sometimes it seemed like he was interested but you weren’t _sure,_ and it was driving you _crazy._ Being around him so much was a blessing and a curse, because on one hand, you got to be with him, but on the other, the more time you spent together the harder it was to stay away. Plus, all the mixed, convoluted signals were just clouding up your mind. You didn’t understand anything, and now you were on the city-wide news, and you didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t think straight. You just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

 

You just wanted to be okay.

 

You followed behind Connor as you walked to your desk. You avoided eye contact like the plague as you hurried to your seat. You set your bag down on the floor, and you were about to sit down in your chair when you heard a familiar scoff from behind you.

 

“Hey, look, it’s the fucking android, _and_ the android _fucker,_ ” Gavin laughed, his feet on his desk, hands resting behind his head. He had such a punchable face.

 

“So much for laying low,” You whispered.

 

You knew you should have ignored him. You knew he was just trying to get a reaction. But you had a lot of pent up emotions you were trying to process, and you certainly didn’t want to add “coworker being an asshole” to your list of problems. You just wanted to shut him up.

 

“Wow, nice one, Reed. I bet it only took you all morning to think of that,” You snapped. You heard Tina giggle from her desk, and you smiled triumphantly. Gavin glared at her before he turned his attention back to you.

 

Reed stood up and took a step towards you. “At least I’m not the one who was on the news for making out with their plastic toy.”

 

“You know what, Reed?” You slammed your phone down on your desk and he jumped at the sharp sound. “At least I’m not a bigoted, racist ASSHOLE with NO REGARDS for other people’s emotions! It’s no wonder why you don’t have any friends! It’s because you’re a FUCKING UNEMPATHETIC JACKASS! Just leave us alone!”

 

“Hey! Who do you think you are?!” He shouted, as he shot up from his seat, “You don’t fucking know ANYTHING!”

 

You felt a flash of panic as he rounded the corner of his desk and started to pace threatening towards you. His eyes were manic with anger, and his hair was disheveled. He looked unhinged, insane, _terrifying._ He looked like a man with nothing to lose.

 

“Back off, Reed,” You started to command shakily, trying to not let the fear creep into your voice, but you were interrupted when his hand darted out and grabbed your arm. You squeaked involuntarily and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.

 

“You don’t fucking tell me what to do! You don’t know ANYTHING about me,” He demanded, screaming in your face. He leaned in and growled as he continued “I’ve been waiting for months for an excuse to beat your ass, and now that it’s finally here, you’re fucking dead-”

 

Gavin suddenly stopped talking, and a black and white blur flashed in the corner of your eye as Connor ran into Gavin, full force. Gavin’s body went flying until it collided with his desk and he crumpled to the ground. Your hands flew up to cover your mouth as you watched.

 

“Aw, Christ. The _one thing_ I told him not to fucking do,” You heard Hank grumble as he rose from his seat. He started to rush over, but Gavin had already staggered to his feet, looking ten times more unstable and one-hundred times more furious. He threw a punch at Connor, but Connor twisted out of the way, Grabbed Gavin’s arm, and used his momentum to throw him onto the island in the center of the room. Tablets and cups flew everywhere as Gavin gripped the side of the counter for support.

 

“BREAK IT UP YOU TWO!” Hank bellowed, but Connor ignored him and grabbed Gavin by the front of his shirt. You watched in some horrific blend of amazement and fear as Connor lifted Gavin up by the collar until his feet were dangling in the air. Gavin appeared utterly defeated, sporting a black eye, several bruises, and a thick trail of blood dripping from his nose. He didn’t look frightening anymore, he just looked pathetic. No, now it was Connor who had an almost insane look in his eye. His LED was blinking an angry scarlet, and his chest heaved as he stared at Gavin with an intensity that was shockingly familiar. It was the same face he had on when he pinned the man who attacked you at the game.

 

“Connor! Stop!” Hank yelled as he grabbed Connor’s arm. His efforts to pull Gavin down were futile, and you rushed over to help. Everyone in the precinct was staring by then. You could feel all their eyes on you, and you groaned internally. That was exactly what you wanted to avoid.

 

“Connor!” You called as you reached his side. It was as if you weren’t even there, as if Connor was stuck in an enraged trance. You grabbed his arm and tried to yank it away from Gavin, but it wouldn’t budge. You leaned over until you were well into his field of view. His jaw was set tensely, as if it was clamped shut, and his eyes were so fiercely livid that it was hard to look at him. You gulped down your dread as you insisted, “Connor, put him down, right now!”

 

Connor still didn’t look at you, but at the sound of your voice his expression slowly relaxed until his LED was back to yellow. His head finally turned as his eyes went from Gavin, to Hank, then to you, and finally back to Gavin. The spell seemed to be broken, and he guiltily placed Gavin gently on the floor. He leaned heavily against the table next to him as Connor took a step back and straightened his tie.

 

Gavin looked around at everyone with venom in his gaze. Connor turned around and walked away, his posture more hunched than usual.

 

Gavin spat on the ground before he snarled up at Connor’s back, “Fuck you, you fucking coward!”

 

And with that, Connor promptly spun around, took two steps towards him, and decked him in the jaw. Hank shouted Connor’s name, and your hands flew up to cover your mouth again as Gavin’s body crashed into the island. His head bounced off the side like a soccer ball as he collapsed onto the floor. Blood slowly dripped from his nose, staining the white tiles with tiny spots of red. You turned away, suddenly feeling slightly nauseous.

 

“CONNOR, WHAT THE _FUCK_!” Hank roared. Connor looked down at the blood on his fist, and back to Gavin, as if he was surprised or confused. He had a look on his face like he wasn’t entirely convinced he was the reason Gavin was lying on the ground.

 

“He’s just unconscious,” Connor responded quietly, almost coldly. “It’s not the first time I’ve knocked Gavin out.”

 

“It’s _not?”_ You exclaimed, and you jumped as you heard a door crash open behind you.

 

“YOU TWO. IN MY OFFICE. NOW!” Fowler bellowed. You turned in time to see him point at you, before he turned to the Lieutenant. “Hank, get Reed to a hospital. And somebody, clean up that fucking blood!”

 

“God dammit why is it always me,” Hank grumbled as he leaned down to hoist Gavin up. Tina rushed over to help him.

 

“I’ll go with you,” She offered.

 

“I can’t lift this fat-ass on my own, can I?” He snorted, and together they carried Gavin out of the station.

 

You turned back to Connor, who was still staring at his clenched fist. It was like he had two settings; completely adorable and innocent nice guy, and overprotective, slightly terrifying badass. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to think about it.  You sighed, “Come on. Let’s go.”

 

Together, the two of you made you way up the steps to Fowler’s office. Connor held the door for you, and you reluctantly stepped inside. You took your seats, and you nervously stared at the Captain’s coffee mug as you waited. You heard the soft _thwip, thunk,_ of Connor’s coin from beside you.

 

“I have one question for the two of you,” Fowler began, his words dripping with disappointment and anger. “What the fuck?”

 

“I’m sorry for… causing a commotion in a workplace, but really it was Reed’s fault, he provoked us,” You explained.

 

“I recorded everything, I would gladly show it to you if it would help prove the Detective’s innocence-” Connor began, but Fowler held up a hand to stop him.

 

“I wasn’t talking about that,” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of where the fight was. “Although both you and Gavin will be receiving ten-day suspensions.”

 

Connor leaned back in his seat, looking simultaneously disappointed, and relieved. Connor didn’t do much outside of work, so not being able to come in would be especially detrimental to him. You were just glad he wasn’t fired.

 

“…What about me?” You asked hesitantly, and Fowler rubbed his eyes.

 

“Three day suspension for escalating the situation. But that’s not what I called you in here to discuss. _This_ is,” He answered, and he tapped a button and pulled up a holo-screen. The familiar face of Joss Douglass in front of the Tiger’s stadium greeted you, and you immediately groaned, covered your face with your hands and sunk down in your seat. Embarrassed was an understatement to describe how you felt. Your ears were warm as Fowler spoke again. “Can you explain to me why you started a _riot,_ at a _Tiger’s game?”_

 

“We didn’t start the riot!” You protested, shooting up in your chair.

 

Fowler ignored you. “Channel 16 has asked me for a statement. What am I supposed to tell them? What happened?”

 

“I… I don’t really know?” You stammered, playing with a loose thread in the upholstery. “I’m a huge advocate for android rights, and, and, I couldn’t just let them whisper about him! I just wanted to normalize androids in our society! I didn’t mean to cause a riot!”

 

“There was no way we could have known-” Connor tried to defend you.

 

“The two of you are first and foremost _detectives,_ not civil rights leaders. You absolutely should have known about the consequences! You should _know_ that Detroit isn’t the safest place for androids right now! Especially you, Connor! I’m incredibly disappointed in you two.”

 

“Why can’t we be both? Why can’t we be detectives _and_ civil rights leaders?” You demanded, feeling rage bubbling inside you.

 

“That’s beside the point,” Fowler held up his hand again. “Look. Usually I’m fine with office relationships-”

 

“Oh, actually we’re not really-” “I don’t think the detective has any interest-” You and Connor said at the same time, and you looked at each other.

 

Fowler silenced both of you. “I don’t fucking care. Just keep it discrete, especially in public. I’ll prepare a statement based on what you’ve said. In the meantime, I suggest you get a haircut. It’ll make you less recognizable until this all blows over.”

 

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You closed it and dropped your head, defeated.

 

“Now, if neither of you have anything else to say, pack up your stuff and go home. Your suspensions start today,” Fowler commanded as he turned back to his computer.

 

You rose from your chair, and Connor opened the door for you again. You were silent as you left his office, but you heard Connor say from behind you, “Have a nice day, Captain.”

 

You avoided the stares as you quietly hurried to your desk. You sat down, and folded your hands in your lap. You looked in the small mirror you had. You sighed as you shrugged on your jacket. You always wanted to try a new hairstyle.

 

Maybe now was finally the time to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I just really hate Gavin? Weird.
> 
> Take a shot every time the word "fuck" is used in this chapter if you want to die of alcohol poisoning!
> 
> But hey, finally a chapter that's a reasonable size! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for 300+ kudos! You have no idea what it means to me! I've never felt this happy to write anything in my entire life! Thank you all so much! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!
> 
> I feel like descriptions are my weakest points, so I'm really working on improving that aspect of my writing. If any of you see anything not right with anything in my fic, please tell me about it! Again, thank you! I hope you liked the chapter!


	12. Hello, World

For the second day in a row, you were roused from your slumber by the sound of your phone ringing. It was the day after your... “Conflict,” with Gavin at work, and subsequently was the second day of your suspension. Follow the motif of seconds, you rolled over, grabbed your phone, and found that it was Hank calling you yet again.

 

“Jesus Christ, it’s too early for this,” you sighed, uncharacteristically grumpy. You had gotten a lot less than the recommended amount of sleep last night. Just one of those nights where your mind was racing with thoughts and worries and wouldn’t shut up. You answered the call and closed your eyes as you tiredly held your hand up to your face. “Hey. What’s up?”

 

“Are you doing anything today?” Hank’s voice asked from the receiver.

 

“Uh...” It took you a minute to process his words. Your mind felt like alphabet soup, like you were trying to string Hank’s floating sounds and letters together into coherent words. You were silent as you comprehended his question, but eventually you responded, “I was planning on going to _work_ today, but since I can’t do that, um... sleeping?”

 

“Would you mind keeping Connor company? He’s not used to not being at work, and he’s been moping around the house all morning.”

 

You were starting to wake up a small bit by then, but you still didn’t really understand what he was talking about. “You want me to... keep him company? Like... babysitting?”

 

“No, of course not fucking babysitting,” Hank snapped, and you rolled your eyes. You were joking, but you guessed your sleep-deprived comedy didn’t translate well.

 

“You asking me because you’re _worried_ ‘bout him?” You yawned.

 

“No, I’m not worried about him, he can take care of himself. He’s just never had this much time off, alone, and I don’t want him to just sit on his ass and do nothing all day.”

 

“That _sounds_ like you’re worried.”

 

“Cut the bullshit and just get over here. I have to be at the station in half an hour, so just be here by then,” Hank commanded, and you sighed.

 

“Sure, whatever. Bye,” You hung up on him, and you flopped back down into your pillows, feeling another internal conflict coming on.

 

In reality, part of you didn’t really want to be around Connor. You had seen so much of him recently, maybe it would be good for you to take a break. Everything was so much more... Intense around him. It was exhausting, in a way.

 

But there was still that part of you that was ecstatic just to be near him. It was the part that was weak to his smiles, and his laughter, and his odd mannerisms that seemed to put everyone else off. It was the part that wanted to hug him and never let go, the part that wanted to listen to his voice and play with his hair. It was the slightly irrational, emotional part of you.

 

Both parts had one thing in common, though; they were exhausted. You _really_ didn’t get enough sleep last night.

 

You rubbed your eyes as you heaved yourself up from the warmth of the sheets.

 

You were too tired to really be worried.

 

. . .

 

You knocked on the door, and you heard a muffled swear from somewhere inside the house before the lock clicked and the door swung open. Expecting Connor to greet you, you were surprised to find Hank, in his coat, looking as angry and annoyed as ever.

 

“He’s on the couch. I’ve got to go, I’ll be back around 7. You can eat whatever’s in the fridge, but don’t fucking touch my ice cream. See you later,” Hank grumbled hurriedly as he rushed past you.

 

“Uh... Okay. Bye,” You barely had time to say anything before Hank had reached his car and was speeding down the driveway. You guessed you made him late to work, but you couldn’t muster up any guilt. He wasn’t the one who was suspended.

 

You pulled off your jacket and you were about to set your things on the floor when you were bombarded by a black and gold blur.

 

You almost fell to the ground as Cali greeted you, jumping up to try and lick your face. You laughed as you attempted to shove her away. Sumo came padding over soon after, and before you knew it, you were on the ground, covered in dogs. You protected your face as you tried to free yourself from your fluffy tomb.

 

As you struggled to your feet, you finally saw Connor. You paused in your efforts to stand as your heart sunk.

 

He was sitting unnaturally still on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. His coin was in his hand, but it was motionless, in between his thumb and pointer finger instead of spinning in the air. His LED was resting on a sickly yellow. Screw being tired. You were _concerned._

_“..._ Connor?” You asked softly. He didn’t look at you, even when you sat down on the couch. His head finally turned when you repeated, “Connor?”

 

“Yes?” He replied, but his voice sounded different, somehow. Like it was far-off, unfocused, even. Your concern immediately doubled.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” He reassured you quietly, but it didn’t make you feel better. His head swiveled back to the wall, and you made a noise like a groan.

 

You sat in silence for a moment. You weren’t sure what to say. You finally settled on, “You’re not okay. And that’s ok. To not be okay, I mean. What I’m trying to say is... Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Connor’s LED flickered red for a moment, then back to yellow. He shook his head wordlessly, and you sighed.

 

“Okay... Just know that you didn’t do anything wrong. Seriously, it was Gavin’s fault. You were just... protecting me. And I really appreciate it.” You gently placed your hand on his shoulder, and you were delighted when his LED swirled back to a calm blue. You leaned back on the couch, and Cali immediately hopped up and laid across your laps. You laughed, and your heart swelled as he smiled along with you, burying his hands in her fur and scratching behind her ears. Sumo settled down on the floor, near your feet.

 

“Thank you,” He mumbled, and your smile faded slightly. You suddenly understood why Hank had asked you to come over. You wouldn’t have wanted him to be alone like this either. Aw, Hank _did_ care.

 

“So…” You leaned down to pet Sumo. “Do you have anything planned for today?”

 

“No. Not really,” He replied, fiddling with Cali’s collar. “Currently, Hank has me under house arrest. I’m not allowed to leave until everything dies down. I finished cleaning yesterday, so there isn’t much left to do.”

 

You tilted your head. “Well… What do you usually do on your days off?”

 

He looked lost in thought for a moment. His LED flashed yellow for a second, and for a moment you were afraid you asked the wrong question, but it was blue as he answered, “I do housework. I try to take Hank with me whenever I run errands, but usually I go alone. Sometimes he has something planned, or I just stay with him for the day. Lately I’ve been training Calliope, as well.”

 

You felt strange pangs of sadness as he spoke. His life outside of work was really… boring, to say the least. You felt _bad_ for him. From what he told you, it sounded like he was just floating along from day to day, doing his job, and whatever Hank told him to do. He was just… _existing._

 

What kind of a life is that?

 

“Do you… have any hobbies?” You asked hesitantly. You weren’t sure what the best way to handle the situation was.

 

Again, it took Connor a moment to respond. He looked almost embarrassed, as if he didn’t want to admit how little he does on a daily basis. “Markus and Carl tried to teach me how to paint, but I never really understood how to “express yourself” through painting. At least, not like they can. I enjoy reading, but it doesn’t take very long to finish a book. I’ve already read everything here. It took about two days.”

 

“You read _every_ book that Hank owns in two days? Wow, that’s fast,” You remarked.

 

“I suppose. It’s not fast for Androids, though. Maybe it is.” Callie jumped to the floor and bounded over to her food bowl as he continued, “Sometimes I visit Amity.”

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s the new Android neighborhood, right? Isn’t it near where Jericho was?”

 

“No. The opposite, actually. Markus, Josh, North and Simon didn’t want the androids-” He paused, “ _Us,_ to feel like we were hiding anymore. Also, the memories of the attack on Jericho was… scarring, to some people, so they decided to build on the other side of town. The remains of Jericho are a memorial now.”

 

“Really? Wow, I never knew that. So, you visit Amity sometimes? What do you do there?” You inquired. You were aware that it kind of sounded like you were an adult asking a child what they did over the weekend, but you really were interested. Also, Connor seemed to like talking about it, and it looked like it was distracting him from his situation.

 

“Sometimes I play Gigaline,” Connor stated, but after a look at your confused face, he elaborated. “Gigaline is an android-only sport that North invented. It’s similar to soccer and capture-the-flag.”

 

“That’s really cool,” You remarked.

 

“Yeah. I… enjoy spending time with my friends at Amity.” He stated, and you smiled. You were happy he had other androids that he could call friends, people he could relate to more. At least he didn’t spend all day, every day with Hank. If you had to do that, you’d probably go insane and murder him. Okay, maybe an exaggeration.

 

“Have they said anything about the, uh, thing?” You glanced at the dark TV. It was all over the news, surely they would know.

 

“They told me to exactly what Hank said- to lay low, and wait it out,” He leaned forwards and put his elbows on his knees. “Although, it’s getting increasingly hard to stay here.”

 

You patted his back sympathetically. Your suspension was almost over, you couldn’t even imagine having eight more days left, especially with nowhere to go and nothing to do. He was quite literally trapped. He even looked frustrated. His hair was slightly unkempt (although, it was looking increasingly less “perfect” these days, like it was a physical manifestation of in deviancy), and he was wearing jeans, an old t-shirt, and no socks or shoes. It was the most informal you had ever seen him.

 

You weren’t sure what to do. You couldn’t go anywhere with Connor in public, in fear of someone recognizing you. There wasn’t much to do here, besides watch movies, and you had a sneaking suspicion that Connor had already seen most of the ones Hank owned. Besides, Connor seemed to be losing spirit every second he was in the house. What he really needed was…

 

“A vacation,” You whispered suddenly, as a thought popped into your head.

 

“A vacation?” Connor echoed, and you were reminded or his super-senses.

 

You ignored his question as you turned to him, suddenly excited. “Connor, have you ever been outside of Detroit?”

 

He opened his mouth, as if the answer was obvious, but then his brow furrowed and he closed it again. He tilted his head as he thought. Finally, he answered, “No. No, I don’t think so. The farthest I’ve been is Elijah Kamski’s mansion, on the outskirts of the city. Why?”

 

You clapped your hands together, and you knew a huge, goofy grin was on your face, but you didn’t care. “Connor, I know what we’re doing today. Put on some tennis shoes, and let’s go rent a car.”

 

. . .

 

“Will you tell me where we’re going _now_?” Connor asked, for what seemed to be the twentieth time.

 

“Connor, do you not know what a _surprise_ is? Because based on your behavior, I’m starting to think you don’t,” You joked as you looked over at him.

 

“No,” He defended himself. “I just don’t like not knowing.”

 

“It’ll be worth the wait, trust me,” You assured him, but you were also trying to convince yourself that you were making the right choice. You weren’t entirely sure that Connor would like it, but it had to be better than sitting in a stuffy house all day.

 

“You do know that I could easily predict where we’re heading based on our current route, right?” Connor pointed out.

 

“Yes, but you won’t,” You declared.

 

“And why won’t I?”

 

“Because I asked you nicely…?” You offered as you shrugged. Connor laughed, and you almost sighed in relief. It was really nice to hear him laugh again, and to see him finally relaxing. You checked your phone, and told him, “Besides, we’re almost there.”

 

Connor leaned back in his seat, apparently satisfied for the time being, and you followed suit. You stared out the windshield of the self-driving car as it drove down the road, watching the trees fly past. They were starting to change color- splotches of orange, yellow and red stood out from the green leaves like ravens in a snow storm.

 

Not that long after your conversation, the car turned a corner and pulled into a medium-sized, mostly empty parking lot. It was a normal Tuesday, during work hours, so you weren’t that surprised to see few cars. Straight ahead, there was a large, wooden building that had a sign that read VISITOR’S CENTER on it. To the left of the Visitor’s Center, there were wooden steps leading up, and in the distance you could see slivers of blue, which you knew had to be the lake. Lake Superior, to be specific.

 

As soon as you saw the visitor’s center, your excitement skyrocketed again. You could barely contain your enthusiasm as you grabbed his arm and pointed as the car parked itself. “We’re here! Come on, let’s go!”

 

The seats spun around, and you practically leaped out of the vehicle as soon as the doors slid open. You grinned from ear to ear as you leaned back in and beckoned Connor to join you. He was more hesitant as he stepped down onto the pavement, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable.

 

“Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore,” Connor read off of a sign at the edge of the parking lot.

 

“Yeah! I used to come here all the time, I love it here. You’ve never really been anywhere like this, out in nature, y’know? So I, uh, just thought it would be a nice change of pace from the city,” You explained, tailing off at the end. Connor looked unconvinced, and you realized just how foreign everything here was to him. He even looked out of his element- the greys, blues and blacks he typically wore sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of green and brown. His LED was yellow, but it was unnatural-looking when compared with the vibrant, earthy yellows of the leaves.

 

“Well, you’re right about the nature part,” Connor commented as he pulled his coin out of his pocket and rolled it over his knuckles.

 

“You’ll be okay, don’t worry. We’re not going to do any serious hiking, and besides, this park is _amazing._ And, if you don’t like it, I give you permission to hate me forever,” You joked, trying to get him to relax again.

 

“I wouldn’t hate you,” Connor protested, rather innocently, and you smiled.

 

“The best part is, nobody here watches the Detroit news! We’re not going to be recognized! Hooray!” You grabbed a light backpack from the back seat of the car and slung it over your shoulder. You started to make your way over to the Visitor’s center, and you turned to wave him over. “Come on, let’s get a map!”

 

. . .

 

The park ranger running the Visitor’s Center seemed apprehensive to Connor at first. She eyed him warily as he wandered around the gift shop, while you talked with her about the trails. As soon as you started to ask about the park, though, she happily answered your questions, pointing out specific locations on the map. With a map, marked with all the places you wanted to hit that day, and Connor in tow, you left the center and started down a nearby trail.

 

“Miners Falls?” Connor asked as the two of you passed the trail sign that marked the beginning of the trek to the falls.

 

“Eyup,” You confirmed. Suddenly you turned on him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Don’t you DARE look up any pictures. You gotta _experience_ it, understand?”

 

Connor held up his hands defensively as he nodded. You laughed, unable to keep up the serious act.

 

And with that, the two of you started down the trail. It was well trodden, with only a few stray tree roots or rocks blocking the way. It was downhill, which was to be expected of a hike to a waterfall. It wasn’t too hot, or too cold, and the thick woods protected you from any wind. It was quiet, in the way only nature could be. The green and warm-colored leaves rustled above your heads, and occasionally you would hear the cries of birds in the branches. Patches of sunlight filtered down, illuminating the path with warm, golden rays. It was stunningly, beautifully peaceful.

 

You and Connor talked sporadically on the way to the falls. Connor told you about how training Cali was going, and how Sumo really liked her. He explained the rules of Gigaline to you (It was basically capture-the-flag but way more intense, and instead of a flag they transferred information through their arms? You had seen Connor do it a few times, but it was still weird to you.), and he even talked more about his friendships with Simon, Josh, North, and Markus. Not to mention, you got some pretty good Hank stories that could potentially be blackmail material.

 

You pondered what you were missing at work, and Connor asked if you had heard anything about Gavin’s condition. Tina had told you that he was out of the hospital, and recovering quickly. Connor seemed relieved that he hadn’t done any lasting damage, and you were glad he was finally seeing a therapist. Tina also said that Gavin apologized for attacking you, and you knew that she wasn’t making it up. Tina was a good friend to him, but she never defended his bull-shittiest bullshit.

 

The farther along the trail you and Connor trekked, the more comfortable and confident he was becoming. At first, he seemed like a fish out of water, unfamiliar with the uneven dirt terrain and the fauna all around him. But, after time, he started to get his sea legs, and several more ocean-metaphors later, he almost seemed like an experienced hiker. All of that adaptation software was paying off. But more importantly, he seemed happier. You didn’t know what it was about nature, but it had the incredible capacity to make people feel calm, and free.

 

You didn’t know how long you had been walking when suddenly you stopped dead in your tracks, and cut Connor’s speech about the annoyingly buggy self-check-out software at the supermarket short (Although you agreed wholeheartedly, those machines were WACK).

 

Connor looked over at you, confused. He opened his mouth to speak, but you put a finger to your lips and shushed him. Silence hung in the air for a moment, before you whispered, “…Do you hear that?”

 

Connor tilted his head and looked away, listening. Together, the two of you stood, and in the stillness, a far-off sound of water could be heard.

 

“The waterfall,” Connor suggested, and you couldn’t hold back your grin as you nodded.

 

“Come on, come on!” You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, picking up the pace. Your heart was pounding, and not just from your eagerness to get to the falls. His hand was just as warm as you remember, and his skin, just as soft and impossibly smooth. You could have sworn you felt him squeeze your knuckles gently, but you were _probably_ just imagining things.

 

With every step you took, the roaring of the waterfall got louder and louder, until it sounded like it was right in your ears, fuzzing up your thoughts. It wasn’t long before you spotted a break in the trees ahead, and you could see a little wooden observation deck. You slowed down when you reached the deck. You let go of Connor’s hand to grab onto the wooden railing as you leaned out over the edge, peering at Miners Falls.

 

Water flowed seamlessly over the edge of a huge stone cliff, cascading down onto the rocks below, flowing into a river. The falls itself was huge- the giant rock wall had to be at least 50 feet, and you could see every different layer of sandstone. The water was white, and you could feel a slight spray coming up from the rocks below. The green-and-gold leaves framed the waterfalls, and splashes of red and orange would be seen, illuminated by the sun that perfectly lit up the falls. You could even see a rainbow at the bottom.

 

It was _spectacular._

 

“Wow,” You mouthed, completely stunned by the breathtaking view. It was gorgeous. Even though you had seen it before, you were absolutely amazed. You leaned against the railing for a few moments, just taking in the view, before you turned to look up at Connor.

 

He looked about as amazed as you felt.

 

Connor’s mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were wide, like someone seeing color for the first time. His elbows supported his weight as he leaned over the railing, gazing at the falls. The sun shone down on him, lighting up his eyes and almost turning his hair golden as the leaves above. The loose strands above his forehead swayed gently in the breeze.

 

All you could think was that, he was more beautiful than any waterfall you had ever seen.

 

“So. What do you think? Was it worth the trip?” You asked, but you already knew the answer.

 

Connor closed his mouth and nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the sparkling river of water. “It’s…”

 

“Beautiful?” You finished the sentence for him.

 

“Yeah,” He sighed, and you smiled. It really was worth it, just to see him so relaxed.

 

Suddenly, your smile turned to a wicked grin as you elbowed him and commented, “I guess you could say it… Rocks?”

 

You covered your mouth to hold back your snickering as Connor’s face fell, and he slowly turned to you. He looked at you with the most disappointed expression you had ever seen on anyone, ever. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he responded, “I am going to manually delete that from my memory. You’ve been spending too much time with Hank.”

 

“He’s taught me well,” You giggled, and Connor snorted and shook his head, and you could tell he was trying not to smile as well. You couldn’t help but think his little snort was adorable.

 

“He’d be so proud,” He admitted.

 

Connor turned back to the cliff, but you were distracted by a patch of dirt to the left of the observation deck. The surrounding area had plants and some grass, but that part of the ground was completely barren, just like the normal walking paths. You followed it, and saw that the same thing happened all the way to the bottom of the ravine. It was almost as if… people had hopped the fence and climbed down…

 

“Apparently this waterfall is- what are you doing?” Connor began as you started to climb over the railing.

 

You turned around to him slowly, one leg on each side of the rail, a “caught” expression on your face. “Uh… Adventuring?”

 

“You shouldn’t leave the path. That’s one of the rules,” Connor instructed you, and you rolled your eyes.

 

“Aw, come on, don’t be such a downer. Look, there’s a path to the bottom. People obviously do it, so why not us?” You pointed out as you finished hopping the fence. Connor still looked unconvinced, and you sighed. “You can stay there if you don’t want to break the rules. But I’m going on an adventure, because I’m a _rule breaker_.”

 

“You’re part of law enforcement. You are the exact opposite of a rule breaker,” Connor argued, but you ignored him and started to make your way down the makeshift path to the base of the waterfall. You had only taken a few steps when you heard him call, “Wait! I’m coming with you.”

 

You stopped and turned to wait for him as he basically vaulted over the side of the deck and walked over to you. “There we go. So, how does it feel to be a criminal?”

 

“We’re not criminals,” Connor protested, “And I’m just coming to make sure you stay safe.”

 

You made a noise to show you heard him, but you still weren’t convinced that was his only motive. You led the way down the side of the ravine, until the two of you were standing on the rocks next to the river.

 

You craned your neck and leaned back to see all the way up. “Wow, this was so worth it. Look how cool it is!” You exclaimed as you walked to the edge of the river.

 

Connor stayed silent, but he did look up at the falls in appreciation. He only spoke when you crouched down and cupped your hands into the cool, running water, and brought it up to your lips. “You shouldn’t drink that.”

 

“I’ll be fiiiiine, I’ve got an immune system, I’m sure it can handle whatever’s in that water,” You argued.

 

Connor walked over and crouched down himself. He dipped two fingers into the water, and brought them up to his mouth. He looked thoughtful for a moment, before he informed you, “It’s safe to drink.”

 

“See? I’m a nature _expert_ ,” You insisted.

 

“You live in Detroit. How much of an expert could you possibly be?” Connor said jokingly.

 

You snorted, and after you drank some of the slightly odd-tasting water, you stood up and glanced around. You spotted a _slightly_ safe way up to the waterfall itself, and you started to make your way up, half walking, half climbing.

 

When Connor saw what you were doing, it looked like he just about had a heart attack. “What are you doing? The rocks are slippery, you might fall,” he exclaimed as he rushed to your side.

 

“Connor, I’m not a little kid. I’ll be careful,” You reassured him, but he still looked like he just swallowed something slimy.

 

“I know. I’m just… Worried about you,” He admitted, and you _melted._

 

“I know,” You sighed and he stepped up to stand next to you on the large boulder you were on. “And I appreciate it, I really do, but I’ll be okay. You don’t _have_ to be worried about me.”

 

He stayed silent, and you looked up at the little ways you had left until you would be able to touch the waterfall. “Would it make you feel better if you helped me reach the water?”

 

Connor contemplated your offer, before he accepted it. “It would help insure that you wouldn’t fall.”

 

“ _You_ could fall.” You noted.

 

“I won’t,” Connor said confidently, and that was enough for you. Connor hopped up to the next large rock, and held out his hands. You took them in yours, and you almost slipped from how quickly and easily he pulled you up. Once you got your bearings, Connor continued on, and together, the two of you (safely) reached a large rock close enough to the waterfall to touch it.

 

You and Connor stood next to the falls, the 50-foot wall of rushing, falling water, crashing down on the rocks around you. The mist generating from it was already making your clothes damp. You tentatively reached your hand out, until the tips of your fingers were in the water.

 

Your first thought was, “ _Wow, this is really cold.”_ Your second thought was, “ _WOW, this is really COOL.”_ You laughed as you stuck both hands all the way into the stream, and felt the weight of the water pushing them down.

 

You looked over your shoulder and saw Connor a not very far behind you, just watching. You grinned mischievously, and angled your hand so the water sprayed him in the face. He recoiled, and you took your hand out of the waterfall, laughing. He was smiling too, and really, you should have seen it coming when he darted forwards and splashed water right back at you. You yelped, and you retaliated with your own splash, which missed him completely. Soon, it dissolved into an all-out battle. You were the underdog, up against what was essentially a superhuman. You were doomed from the start, but you still fought with all your might. The ravine was filled with the sounds of splashes and laughs, and of course, the sound of the waterfall.

 

You went to step closer to the water, to get a better angle, but you suddenly felt your foot slip. You felt a flash of panic as you stumbled towards the waterfall, and you were just about to fall in when two hands grabbed your arm and yanked you back onto the rock.

 

Connor held you tight against his chest as he took a step away from the falls. Your heart felt like it was beating in double time, and you were taking deep breaths to calm yourself. And you _just_ said you wouldn’t fall. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if Connor wasn’t there. You stood, pressed flush against his body, breathing heavily, the roaring of the waterfall pounding in your ears. What a way to be reminded that nature is a cruel mistress.

 

Once you felt calm enough, you tried to step away, but Connor wouldn’t let you go. You leaned back, and hesitantly looked up at him.

 

He was staring down at you with a terrified look on his face. His LED was blinking in-between red and yellow, as if his thoughts were racing. There were water droplets on his face, and his hair and clothes were _almost_ drenched, but not quite. Your clothes were definitely worse, but the two of you were covered in water. His hair was soaked, and plastered to his face. His lips were slightly parted, and you could just barely feel his breath on your face, as if he were overheating and needed to ventilate. Now that you thought about it, you were really warm in his arms.

 

The sound of the waterfall faded into white noise as you stared at each other, neither one of you moving an inch. In that moment, you had never wanted to kiss him more. The desire to reach up, wrap your arms around his neck and have your lips meet his was so strong, you found it so hard to not give in. Even though you knew you couldn’t, you still found yourself leaning in. And, to your surprise, Connor seemed to be leaning in too.

 

Your lips were just inches apart when suddenly, Connor looked away. You couldn’t tell for sure, but his cheeks looked red. You exhaled, feeling a sickly combination of disappointment and relief.

 

“Are you alright?” Connor asked gently as he met your eyes again, and it took a moment for it to register that he was talking about how you almost slipped and fell into the waterfall.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” You responded, still shaken up. You tried to laugh it off. “It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, right?”

 

Connor didn’t respond right away, but he finally let go of you. You immediately missed the warmth his body provided. His eyes went from the waterfall, then back to the observation deck, then back to you. “We should go back.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” You agreed. You looked over the edge of the rock formation you were standing on, and suddenly, the ground seemed further away than it did a few minutes ago.

 

Connor seemed to notice your hesitance to move, and he grabbed your hand, which subsequently gave you another mini-heart attack. “Let me help you.”

 

You were wary at first, but together, the two of you made it back up to the trail. Albeit, slower than the first time.

 

Once you were on the trail again, you were able to shake your nervousness, and you regained some of your enthusiasm and confidence. You and Connor started to make the trek back up to the parking lot, and by the end of the trail, it was as if the whole almost-slipping-and-dying-and-then-almost-kissing escapade never happened. You were talking and joking like normal, and once you got to the car, you were finally able to get into some dry clothes (you brought extras just in case).

 

You checked your phone; it was only 2:34. There was still practically the whole day left, and lots more of the park left to explore.

 

As long as you didn’t almost fall again, everything would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda got away from me, haha. I wanted it to be one chapter, but I had to split it into two because it got so long. So you get two, good sized chapters instead of one GIGANTIC chapter *COUGHCOUGH*THEBASEBALLONE*COUGHCOUGH*. I am so tired. I only had time to proof-read about a fifth of this. Did I mention that I'm tired? Hahah!
> 
> But anyway, there are a lot of long paragraphs in this chapter! I hope you like descriptions! Also sorry about that ONE scene. You know the one. I'm REALLY not good at describing that kind of stuff, so... rushed and crappy kiss-fakeout scene! Woohoo! Have I said that I'm tired yet?
> 
> Also pictured rocks national Lakeshore is over six hours from Detroit so really this entire thing isn’t possible BUT this is MY fic so I say it’s less than an hour drive now because i really like it there, it’s like the prettiest place on earth. Also I need it to work for the next chapter so, yeah! Thanks!
> 
> Well anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, even if it isn't all the way up to my standards. Thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> Edit: As a side note, we’ve reached 50,00 words! Oh my god! That’s a lot of words! Thank you all SO MUCH for reading, and supporting me! If six-months-ago Willowli had know she would write this much by now, she probably would have died! And if I had told her how wonderful, kind, and supportive everyone is, she would have exploded! So again, THANK YOU! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!!!


	13. The Golden Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just realized I accidentally used a "her" to describe the reader in chapter 7! I am so sorry! I want to keep my reader as gender neutral as possible, but sometimes I mess up! I'm sorry, and I'm working on making sure nothing like that ever happens again! That being said, if any of you see something like that, please, please, PLEASE tell me! I don't want to exclude anyone!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy ADVENTURING IN THE WILDERNESS PT.2

You had never imagined that hiking around a national park with a robot could be so much _fun._

Connor was a surprisingly good hiking buddy. He never got tired, he never complained, and he seemed to have gained a newfound appreciation of nature. Everything was so new and exciting to him. It was just fun to watch his reactions.

 

Another great perk of having a living supercomputer with you in the forest was his encyclopedic knowledge of practically everything. You found a weird mushroom on the path? You simply asked him what it was and boom, you got you answer. Couldn’t tell what kind of bird was making that sound? Connor’s got you back, it was a pileated woodpecker. In short, it was nifty to have Connor there with you.

 

Connor’s presence was not only helpful, but also just… so _nice_. It was so good to see him happy again after the fight. Nature was therapeutic, even for androids.

 

You and Connor spent as much of the day as you could hiking to all the scenic places the park had to offer. The beautiful rock formations of Miner’s Castle particularly amazed Connor. He seemed to really appreciate the time nature had to take to make everything, and the history of it all. You got sand in your shoes when you followed the trail to the log slide, where Lumberjacks sent logs down a chute to the water. You wanted to walk down the hill, but it was so steep, and Connor advised you not to, as the walk back up would take ten times as long as the walk down.

 

After you spent 10 minutes trying to shake the grains of sand out of your shoes, the two of you made your way to the Au Sable Light station, a decommissioned lighthouse. You took a tour of the inside of the 150 year old house, and you were amazed at how well maintained it was. You even got the climb to the top, and from there, you could see for miles. Connor didn’t want to go up at first, but he also wanted to make sure you were safe. He had a mental debate for a moment before he hesitantly followed you up. He stayed close to the light, while you went right up to the railing to admire the view of the lake. But, you could tell he was very uncomfortable with the height, and so you and him went back down early.

 

It was getting late, and Connor insisted that you needed food to live, so you stopped in the nearby town to eat. You chose Max and Margaret’s, a cute family-owned diner. A short and stout, motherly-looking woman with grey hair, tied into a loose bun, presumably the aforementioned Margaret, greeted you when you stepped through the door. One glance at her name tag confirmed your suspicions as she led you to a booth near the back.

 

The diner was incredibly retro, and had a nostalgic, homey atmosphere. The design and decor were very 1960s-esque, and you wondered if it had been around since then. If it was, it had obviously been lovingly tended to throughout the years. There were signs of wear and tear, though. A few of the subway tiles were cracked, and some of the paint had been chipped away, revealing past layers of color beneath it. The entire thing was small, only two rooms. One wall of the dining area was lined with of booths, and a counter with round stools made up the other. Near the door was a glass case full to the brim with cookies, cakes, pies, and other deserts. Just looking at them made your mouth water, and you were convinced that they were all homemade. Behind the counter, the remains of the wall, not blocked by drink dispensers and shelves, was covered in old, yellowed newspaper clippings, plaques with award certificates, and magazine covers. The entire space had a worn, “lived-in” vibe, and it just felt welcoming. Every piece of furniture, every artifact of the past had a story to tell, and you loved it. It had oodles of character.

 

Above your heads, on the opposite wall was a row of similar-sized pictures in matching black frames. They all featured the front window of the diner, but different people on the steps. “Do you think those are all the previous owners?” You asked Connor, and he glanced up at the wall.

 

“Yes. Dating as far back as 1954, the people in these pictures are previous owners of this restaurant. It’s been passed down from generation to generation, and re-named with each new family.”

 

“You figured all that out from those photos?” You asked.

 

“No, they have an “about us” page on their website,” Connor explained.

 

“That’s cheating,” You laughed, but you were interrupted when Margaret walked out of the kitchen with a notepad and stopped at your table.

 

“Can I start you folks off with something to drink?” She asked sweetly, a kind smile on her face.

 

You realized you hadn’t even looked at the menu yet, and you hastily opened it. “Uh... I’ll just have water, please.”

 

“Of course. And for you, dear?” She turned to Connor, and you flashed him a worried look as he glanced uncertainly at you. Your eyes went from Margaret to Connor, and back to Margaret again. You waited for her to notice, or Connor to say something.

 

“I’m alright, thank you,” Connor answered her politely. He tilted his head purposefully, and she gasped when she saw his LED. You sucked in a breath through your teeth, expecting the worst, and you were surprised when she laughed joyfully and placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

 

“Why didn’t you say that you were an android? I’ll be back with your drinks in just a minute,” She wrote something down on her notepad, and before either of you could say anything, she was gone.

 

You and Connor looked at each other, confused.

 

“Drinks?” Connor echoed, vocalizing what both of you were thinking. Connor couldn’t drink things. He actually, physically could not. You asked him once, and he said that if he eats anything other than thirium, his body rejects it.

 

You shrugged in response, unsure of what Margaret’s plan was.

 

A few minutes passed, and Margaret returned with two drinks on a red tray, along with a basket of rolls. She placed the rolls down first, then your ice water in a green Coca-Cola glass, and last, she set down a glass of a strikingly blue liquid that was bubbling in front of Connor. He looked at it, and then back up at Margaret.

 

“Carbonated Thirium?” Connor guessed, and Margaret laughed her signature jovial laugh again.

 

“Hey, you’re smart! Here we call it “fizzy blue blood,” and it’s completely safe for androids to drink. Now, are you two ready to order?”

 

You and Connor stared at his drink for a second more, before you shook yourself slightly and nodded up at her. “Yes, thank you.”

 

Once you had ordered from the menu full of comfort foods, she looked over at Connor, who still had yet to open his menu, or even look away from the glass in front of him. He didn’t respond to Margaret’s patient, “Dear?”

 

“Connor?” You softly tapped his hand, and he finally looked up with wide eyes.

 

“My apologies,” He quickly recovered. “I’m not sure-”

 

“Say no more, we’ll whip you up a crowd favorite,” She waved him off as she scribbled on her notepad. She collected your menus and started to walk back to the kitchen. “I’ll be back shortly!”

 

“This is weird, right?” You asked when she was out of earshot.

 

“Yeah,” Connor responded, turning his attention back to the fizzing drink in front of him. He eyed it cautiously as he slowly spun the glass around, peering at it from all angles.

 

“Come on, Connor, just drink it already! I’m sure she’s not poisoning you, and besides, I’m _really_ curious now,” You urged him on.

 

He hesitantly picked up the glass and, almost unsure of what to do, raised it to his lips. As soon as it poured into his mouth, he snorted and flinched back, some of it spilling out and on to the table. He snatched a napkin and wiped his mouth, swallowing uncertainly. You laughed uncontrollably, half at his reaction, and half at the look of confusion on his face.

 

“Is it bad?” You giggled as you leaned forward and wiped up the drops of thirium on the table with a napkin.

 

“No, not at all. It’s… strange. I’ve never tried to drink anything before, and eating isn’t in my programming. The carbonation… surprised me.”

 

“Awww, baby’s first meal,” You crooned, and he rolled his eyes. “What does it taste like?”

 

“I can’t “taste” things the way you can, so to me it has no flavor,” Connor explained. He took another swig and held it in his mouth for a moment with a thoughtful look on his face before swallowing. “The carbonation is...new. I like it.”

 

“This is really interesting! I guess it’s a good business practice, since I doubt there’s any other place that serves food for androids,” You thought about it. “I wonder why, though…”

 

Connor didn’t respond, as he was too busy downing the entire glass in one gulp. You laughed, and from then on the subject was dropped. You and Connor chatted about the diner, and what he thought about the park. You told him about your family, and some stories from your childhood. No matter what you talked about, it always seemed like Connor was interested in what you had to say. It felt nice to have somebody listen to you for once.

 

It wasn’t long before Margaret came back out with your dinner, and you felt your stomach rumble as you watched her carry it over to your table. You thanked her as she set your meal in front of you, but your curiosity to see what she brought Connor outweighed your hunger, and you eagerly watched as she brought down a bowl of what looked like sapphire-colored ice cream.

 

“Thirium gelato!” Margaret announced. You were close.  “It’s not exactly a suppertime dish, but everyone who’s tried the thirium foods we make have said that the texture is best. Dig in you two, I’ll be back to check up on you in a few minutes!”

 

“Wait…” Connor held out a hand as she started to turn away. “Why-”

 

“Why do we serve food for androids?” She finished his question. “I’m not really the best person to answer that question. Let me go get my wife.”

 

Margaret disappeared into the kitchen, calling for Max. Soon afterwards, Max herself appeared, a tall, middle-aged woman with short dark hair and a severe jawline and nose. Despite her appearance, Max smiled brightly as she walked over.

 

“The name’s Max! It’s so good to meet you!” She said in a loud, bright and commanding voice as she held out her hand to Connor.

 

“My name is Connor. It’s nice to meet you too,” He smiled politely as he shook it.

 

She held her hand out to you, and you introduced yourself as well. Her grip was firm despite her age. She turned back to Connor and crossed her arms, suddenly serious. “So. You want to know why I make food out of thirium.”

 

Connor nodded, and Max smiled again. “It all started 13 years ago. This place used to be run by my parents. Specifically my father-it was his pride and joy. When he was diagnosed with stage four brain cancer, we all thought he was a goner, especially since there were no hospitals around here suitable to perform the surgery that he needed. Fortunately, there was a new, specialized android model that was sent to our hospital to perform surgery. His name was Gabriel. The surgery was successful, and he and my father were close while he recovered. My father bought Gabriel as an at-home assistant, but really, he became his third son. We all loved Gabriel, and when he deviated, we welcomed him to the family. To show his appreciation, my dad starting making different foods out of thirium for Gabriel. He spent the last years of his life designing and making all sorts of new dishes. He loved it, and Gabriel loved being his taste-tester.”

 

Max’s voice wavered as she continued. “After Dad died nine years ago, and Gabe was captured and… killed in the camps last year, Peggie and I inherited the diner. To honor them, we added my Dad’s food for androids to the menu. We don’t get a lot of androids here, anymore, ever since the revolution.”

 

“Wow,” You remarked. “I’m so sorry. They sound like they were terrific people.”

 

“Ah, it’s okay, it’s in the past now.” Max wiped her eyes,

 

Connor stayed silent as he stared down at the bowl of gelato in front of him. “…I wish I could have thanked them.”

 

“Well, you can’t do that, but what you _can_ do is dig in to your delicious gelato!” Max laughed.

 

“Thank you,” Connor said, and you nodded in agreement. The two of them told you to enjoy your food before they departed into the kitchen.

 

You turned your attention back to Connor, who was in the process of taking a bite from his partially melted desert. “So. How is it?”

 

The look of pure wonder and happiness on Connor’s face as he put the spoon in his mouth was enough to tell you what he thought.

 

. . .

 

 

 

 

“This is probably the last thing we’ll do today,” You told Connor through a yawn as the self-driving car drove down a long, winding road, surrounded by trees. “I’m pretty tired.”

 

“You didn’t sleep enough last night,” Connor stated. It certainly wasn’t a question.

 

“Yeah, I- Wait. How did you know that?” You asked, shocked. Was it really that obvious?

 

“Your cognitive and motor skills have been slow today,” Connor explained, and instead of being embarrassed or upset you laughed.

 

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” You commented. His lips twitched into a faint smile, and he turned to look out the window as the car rolled to a stop in a small parking lot. You slid out of the vehicle and simultaneously stretched and yawned. You looked up at the sky through the small break in the trees that the road made, and saw that it was slightly tinged pink. Through a gap in the trees, you saw bright blue waves. Your excitement and exhaustion fought for dominance as you waved Connor over to a little walkway through the woods that opened up to a white-sand beach. Maybe about a mile or two long, the beach was pristine and beautiful, the sand even and mostly free of rocks. The crystal clear waves rose and fell rhythmically against the pale backdrop of the sand.

 

The sun was low in the sky, casting a dazzling golden reflection on the water. The clouds were painted orange, pink and red, and streaks of periwinkle sky tore through them. It was bright, and the entire beach was alight with warm, bright rays from the sun. The lake was like a kinetic mirror, stretching across the horizon as far as the eye could see. The deep blue water was darkened, and rippling with reflections of amber, crimson and lavender. The bronze sunshine was a cozy relief from the slight chill that the evening had brought.

 

“Wow,” You sighed for the countless time that day as you stepped off the path and on to the sand. You gazed out, admiring the calm waves, happily lapping at the shore. The puffy clouds were half colored and illuminated by the sun, and half in shadow, contrasting like day and night. It was indescribably spectacular. “There are never sunsets like this in Detroit.”

 

“…I’ve never watched the sun set,” Connor quietly admitted. You turned around to face him and saw the reflection of the sky in his round eyes, staring wistfully at the lake. He looked mesmerized by the push and pull of the tide and the way the clouds slowly drifted past the burning sun. His skin glowed like gold in its rays, and in the light, you could see every dip and curve, every muscle working in unison to shape his beautifully sculpted face. He looked like a Greek God, and in that moment you could hardly believe that he was real.

 

As he looked out in awe at the setting sun, you couldn’t help thinking how unbelievably lucky you were. Of all the places on earth you could have been, you were _there,_ with _him._ And he looked so _happy._ You couldn’t have asked for anything more wonderful than that. Your heart suddenly ached as an indescribable emotion washed over you. It was semi-sweet, somehow wonderful and sad at the same time. You felt like you could do anything, _would_ do anything, as long as it was with him. As long as he was by your side, you’d be okay.

 

You were overcome with just how much you _loved him._

 

You felt a flash of panic at the thought of love. It was a terrifying emotion, and the idea of being so irrationally crazy about someone was scary. But you knew you couldn’t help it. You were in love with him, and somehow, you were okay with that. He made you feel okay. Gone were the days when you had shied away from him, stuttering and blushing in anxiety and embarrassment. They felt like they were years and years in the past, so far away from who you were and how he made you feel now. You grew up, in a way, and as you thought about it, you realized that he had too.

 

You were in love with Connor, and, even if you wanted to change it, there was nothing you could do about it.

 

You turned away from him, smiling softly to yourself. “This is a pretty nice first sunset, then.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor affirmed. He stood completely still, watching the reflections on the lake. He only turned when you left his side and walked over to a bench nearby. He watched you curiously as you pulled off your shoes, followed by your socks.

 

“C’mon, take off your shoes,” You said, but he looked apprehensive.

 

“Why, exactly?”

 

You rolled up the cuffs of your jeans up to just below your knees, and instead of responding, you simply demonstrated. You held your shoes, with your socks tucked safely inside, as you ran, grinning, across the pleasantly warm sand and into the surprisingly lukewarm water. The waves rose and fell against your shins, cooling your muscles that were slightly sore from all the walking you had done that day.

 

You laughed gleefully as you wiggled your toes, feeling the wet sand between them. You waved at Connor, who was still standing at the opposite end of the beach, shoes on. “Come on, Connor! The water’s great!” You called, still with a huge smile on your face.

 

Connor still looked reluctant as he sat down and slowly removed his shoes and socks. He walked across the sand, until he was at the edge of the water. He looked at you, as if he wanted confirmation, before he took a tentative step into the water. Once both of his feet were fully submerged, you asked him, “So, how does it feel?”

 

“…Different,” He answered, a thoughtful look on his face. He rocked on his heels once, feeling the sand under his feet and the water lap at his ankles. He took a step back, and watched as the gentle waves filled in the wet footprints he made.

 

The temptation to splash him was more than you could withstand, and while he was distracted pushing sand around, you bent down and smacked the water, sending a cascade of droplets on to him. He blinked in shock, and you held your hand to your face to suppress the giggles that were attempting to break free.

 

To your upmost disappointment, he didn’t engage in yet another battle with you. He half-scolded, half-apologetically pointed out, “Don’t you remember what happened last time you tried that?”

 

You slouched slightly and sighed, “Yeah, I know, I know, you’re right. Besides, we ran out of dry clothes anyway.”

 

“What a tragedy,” He smirked, and you couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth. In retaliation for his comment, instead of splashing him, you walked over and used your toes as a shovel to bury his feet in sand.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked, amused.

 

“Fighting back against oppression,” You answered, and you gasped when Connor reacted by covering your feet in one swift motion. You feigned shock and gasped, “How could you!”

 

“It was easy,” Connor gloated, and you lightly punched him in the arm, before you turned back to the sunset. The sun was even lower, the bottom of it just skimming the horizon. Its reflection shimmered brightly on the waves.

 

You closed your eyes and felt the warmth on your skin, and the cool breeze ruffle your hair. You listened to the waves, and the calls of seagulls overhead. It was so calming, you almost forgot about everything. Your fears about the kiss, and the way people would retaliate, and even your fears about being with Connor, all gone with the cool and gentle wind, pulling you towards your future.

 

You opened your eyes again, and gazed up at the clouds. “So, what do you think? It’s pretty cool, right?”

 

“Cool feels like an inappropriate word to describe it,” Connor responded from beside you. “But yes.”

 

There was silence for a moment, before Connor broke it.

 

“I’m really glad you brought me here,” He revealed, and you felt a flash of pride and joy. He looked at you, half his face lit by the sun, half shadowed, but all smiling. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” You spoke more tenderly than you had originally intended. “Anytime.”

 

The two of you admired the clouds as they lazily floated across the sky. You pointed at one that kind of looked like a frowny face, and remarked, “Hey, that one looks like Hank!”

 

Connor barked a laugh as his gaze followed your extended finger to the cloud. His laugh suddenly reminded you of something, and once again, a mischievous grin grew on your face.

 

“Yeah. Anyway, I like oceans, but lakes are far… Superior,” You announced.

 

Connor turned to you with the most deadpan look on his face, and you giggled as he noted, “I may not know the most about social situations, but even I can safely say that you have ruined the moment.”

 

“I didn’t _ruin_ it, I _improved_ upon it,” You argued, and he smiled as he shook his head. You took a few steps along the beach and beckoned him to join you. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

 

He didn’t protest, and fell into step with you as you meandered slowly down the beach. You watched as the wind gently rustled the leaves, the dazzling sun turning them to fire on the pink sky. It started to slowly get darker and darker as you strolled along. You were reminded of your walk at the Tiger’s stadium, and how he held on to your hand to protect you. You wanted to hold his hand again, to feel the safety of it, but you knew you couldn’t. At least, not without his permission.

 

As the two of you walked along the water’s edge, you saw a couple walking in the opposite direction, coming towards you. You felt your anxieties resurfacing, and your fears of getting recognized spiked. You gulped as they came closer and closer, until they were practically in front of you. You smiled politely at them, trying to stop worrying, and to your surprise, they smiled back. They didn’t even seem to notice that Connor was an android, and, if they did, they didn’t care. You sighed in relief as they passed.

 

Maybe you and him would be okay.

 

The sun was sinking lower and lower as you and Connor wandered along the beach. A few yards ahead, you spotted a small outcropping of grass, protruding from the forest. You broke away from the water’s edge and climbed up a short hill until your bare toes were no longer on the stand. Instead, silky, emerald green strands of grass pillowed your feet as you slung your backpack over one shoulder and pulled out a large blanket. With a jerk of your head, Connor instantly reached over and helped you unfurl the blanket on the sand.

 

You sat down on the blanket and stretched your legs out, grateful for a moment to rest. Your lack of sleep and jam-packed day was really taking a toll on you. Connor settled down next to you, although he had a less “laid-back” position, with his back perfectly straight and his legs slightly bent. The two of you watched in silence as the sun slowly slipped beneath the lake, and the sky grew darker.

 

When the sun finally vanished behind the horizon, you started to clap. “Yeah! Good job nature, beautiful sunset, woo-hoo!” You whooped. Connor looked at you oddly, and you laughed. “I’m _really_ tired.”

 

“Maybe we should go home,” Connor suggested. “It’s getting late, Hank is probably wondering where we are.”

 

“Let’s stay for a little longer?” You pleaded. You suddenly felt like you were _maybe_ being a little rude. “Unless _you_ want to go, it’s totally cool if you do.”

 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay for as long as you want,” Connor responded.

 

“Thanks,” You smiled softly.

 

You diverted your attention to the quickly darkening sky, peppered by stars. Except there wasn’t two or three like there was in Detroit- no, there were tens, twenties, hundreds, even. As the sky faded to black, more and more stars were revealed, until it looked like someone had taken a saltshaker and shook it all over the sky. You gazed up in wonder at the cosmos. The very bottom of the sky, just above the horizon, was orange, from the remains of the sunset. Behind the stars were clusters of blue, purple and white, stretching in a diagonal line from left to right. It was the most beautify, starry night sky you had ever seen.

 

“Oh my god,” You gasped, and you grabbed Connor’s arm. “Connor, is that the Milky Way? Are we looking at the Milky Way?!”

 

“Yes,” He confirmed, and you let out a sound of glee.

 

“There’s too much light pollution in the city, I’ve never see anything like this _ever,”_ You exclaimed in wonder. “This is… This is amazing! It almost looks fake.”

 

“…They are spectacular,” Connor agreed, slowly. You realized you were still holding on to his arm, and you felt your face get warm. You dropped your hands and leaned back, propping yourself up to get a better view of the stars overhead. There were so many, too many to count.

 

“It kinda makes me feel… small. Y’know? Because we’re here, on earth, and there’s so much _space_ out there, space that’s always expanding, and we’re just taking up an immeasurably small fraction of it. It makes me feel like all my problems are just… silly, in comparison.” You rambled. “Maybe that’s just me.”

 

“I think I know what you mean,” Connor admitted. His head tilted back to get a better angle, and you watched his eyes, shining with the reflection of thousands, maybe millions of twinkling stars.

 

“I always wanted to know all the constellations and planets and stuff like that,” You commented. “But I just never got around to it.”

 

Connor was silent for a moment, but you watched as the silhouette of his hand pointed up, at a bright red star, near the upper middle of the sky. “That slightly red star is actually Mars. And do you see those four bright stars in a slight curve, right there?” His hand moved down and to the left, tracing a curved line across a section of the sky.

 

You “mmm-hmm”’d and he continued. “Those make up the handle of the big dipper. And those four in a trapezoid shape around it? That’s the Big Dipper, or Ursa Major.”

 

“Oh, I see it! That’s the bear one, right?” You ask, genuinely curious.

 

“Right. And if you follow the two rightmost stars of the ladle,” His finger drew a line from the point of the Big Dipper, up and to the right, landing on another bright star. “You find Polaris, or, the North Star.”

 

“That’s the North Star? That one right there?” You pointed too, leaning towards him to get a better view.

 

“Yes. And the North Star is also the tip of the handle in the Little Dipper.”

 

“Yeah, I see it! It’s upside-down, right?”

 

“Right. But, in the winter, it will flip. And do you see those three stars, close together in a diagonal line?”

 

“Connor, you just described every group of stars here,” You joked sarcastically, but you still looked. In the clouds and clouds of stars in the sky, you couldn’t see the ones he was pointing at. “No, I don’t. Where are they?”

 

The shadowed outline of Connor’s hand reached over, and he gently wrapped his fingers around yours. His hand was a welcomed warmth against the slight chill the night was bringing. He guided your finger until it was right on three bright diagonal stars.

 

“I see it now,” You whispered, suddenly hypersensitive to his movements. He was _incredibly_ close to you on the blanket.

 

“Those are Orion’s Belt. Those two stars are his legs, and that cluster is his head. That line makes up his club, and those five are his shield.” Connor gently pulled your hand across the night sky, pointing out the stars in the constellation.

 

“I don’t know how anyone ever saw a person in that mess,” You laughed, dropping your hand to lean back again. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, content to just look at the stars with each other. It was a while before either of you spoke.

 

“I know I already said it, but thank you for bringing me here today,” Connor said quietly, not taking his eyes off the sky. “I didn’t like being locked in the house all day yesterday, and I don’t think I would have liked it any more today.”

 

“It was no problem. And hey, you gave me an excuse to get out of town for a day!” You smiled and elbowed him in the arm. “Thank _you_ for that! I just hope you find something else to do for the rest of your suspension.”

 

He didn’t respond or move after you elbowed him, and you felt a twinge of concern. “Connor?”

 

“I’m sorry,” He murmured.

 

You sat up, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

 

Connor was silent for another moment that felt like an eternity. “Everything. I’m sorry for everything.”

 

“What? Connor, n-” You began, but he cut you off.

 

“I’m sorry for getting you suspended. I’m sorry for fighting Gavin, and I’m sorry for hurting him. You-You tried to stop me, but I didn’t listen. I was just so… so _mad,”_ Even in the dark, you could tell Connor was shaking. His words were coming out faster and faster, like they were rushing to break free after being trapped for a long time. You were stunned into silence as he rambled on. “I’m especially sorry about the Kiss Cam. If I hadn’t invited you to that game, if I hadn’t been _there_ you never would have been recorded, you never would have been on the news, and you never would have been forced to hide. Forced to hide because of _me._ Because I’m an _android._ ”

 

He spat out the last word like it was poison, and you covered your mouth, not sure what to say. You could feel your chest tightening and your throat constricting, but you still tried to calm him. “Connor, that wasn’t your fault, none of that was-”

 

“It _is_ my fault,” Connor turned on you, and you finally saw his LED, blinking an angry red, a glowing ring, floating among the sea of stars. “I’m supposed to care about you but I keep getting you hurt! How is that not my fault? I’ve been so selfish, and _irrational,_ and the longer I stay around you the worse it gets, and I don’t _understand!”_

“Connor-”

 

“I don’t understand!” He cried again as he raked a hand through his hair, his wrist lit scarlet from the light of his LED. “The more time I spend with you, the more places we go, the more _I_ benefit while the more _you_ suffer! Your social status, your safety, your _happiness,_ all gone out the window so I can give in to these infuriating, nonsensical, illogical _emotions!_ I know I’m hurting you just by being around you, and yet, I don’t stop myself from talking to you! I should be smarter than this! I should be in control! But I’m weak, and you’ve suffered the consequences. Sooner or later, you’re going to be recognized, because _I’m_ with you, and I don’t know what they’re going to do to you, all because of _me!_ Tell me that’s not my fault!”

 

You shrunk under his intense gaze as he stared at you, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. Starlight was reflected in his eyes, and your breath caught in your throat when you spotted the glistening trails down his cheeks. He looked confused, and angry, and so, so afraid. You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know if you even _could_ say anything. Your throat felt like it was closed up, like somebody had blocked the passage between your vocal cords and your mouth. You felt your own tears brimming in your eyes, and your chest felt like somebody had strapped fifty pound weights to it.

 

Connor visibly deflated, and he turned back to the lake, his elbows on his knees, and hands on his face. Your heart broke as you watched the slight tremor in his shoulders.

 

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Connor asked shakily, to nobody in particular. “I’m being emotional, and you’re paying the price for it. I’m sorry.”

 

“Connor,” You managed to whisper, although it was squeakier than you thought it would be. “No, you’ve got it all wrong!”

 

Connor stiffened up as you scooted over and carefully wrapped your arms around his torso.  You sniffed as your tears dripped down onto his shoulder. He was shaking, and you could hear his artificial heart beating in double time, although it seemed like it was slowing down. You rubbed circles into his back as he trembled into your arms.

 

Slowly, Connor shifted, and he returned the hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your head.

 

“Connor, none of that is your fault,” Your breathed, once you had calmed down. “You didn’t choose to be an android. You didn’t force me kiss you. You didn’t make Gavin mad in the first place. And you _aren’t_ forcing me to hang out with you. It’s all been my decisions, too.”

 

You leaned back and finally got a good look at his face. His hair was disheveled, his LED was blood red, and his cheeks were stained from crying. You gently reached up and wiped away the tears with your thumb, and he caught your hand. He held it to his face, and closed his eyes as he took deep, uneasy breaths.

 

“Connor,” You said, and he opened his eyes to look at you. You leaned in and maintained eye contact as you continued. “I _want_ to be here with you. That’s _my_ choice, and I fully accept any consequences that come with it.”

 

You reached up and touched his LED, still not breaking eye contact. You noticed that it was warmer than his skin. “I don’t care that you’re an android. I like you because you’re _you._ You’re Connor! And Connor, you are _amazing_! You’re so kind, and thoughtful, and observant, and hard-working, and funny, and weird in the best ways. I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world. And if I risk being harassed or discriminated against because I’m around you, then so be it. I’ll do it a million times over if that’s what it takes. Besides, think about today! Nobody recognized us, nobody attacked us, we were fine! In fact, everywhere we went, people were nice to us! Thank about Margaret and Max! But, the point is, you _cannot_ blame yourself for the actions of others.”

 

Connor didn’t reply, he only tightened his hold on you and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You reached up and laced your fingers through the short, soft hairs on the back of his neck. He made a soft noise, somewhere between a hum and a sigh, and you watched as the light of his LED swirled to yellow, then blue. You closed your eyes and listened to the slow rhythm in his chest, and felt his body rise and fall, as if he had lungs.

 

Suddenly, Connor pulled away. The cold air hit you like a wall of bricks, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You probably should have packed a thicker jacket. It was almost September, after all.

 

You watched as Connor pulled something out of his pocket. He held it up, eyeing it carefully, and you leaned in to get a closer look. Upon inspection, you discovered that it a pocketknife. Specifically, the one _you_ got for him. You felt a rush of joy, knowing he carried around the gifts you gave him. But, it was replaced with curiosity as he flipped open the knife part of it.

 

“Connor, what are you doing?” You inquired slowly. Your confusion only doubled as he pressed the cool handle of the metal knife into your hands.

 

“Would you… remove my LED for me?” He asked, turning his head slightly so you were in full view of the spinning ring of light on his temple.

 

You open and closed your mouth, flabbergasted. “What? A-are you sure?” You stuttered. This was an incredibly tall order. “What if I do it wrong? I-is it difficult to remove it?”

 

“It’s very simple,” Connor reassured you. “All you have to do is wedge the knife under the LED and it should come off fairly easily. In hindsight, Cyberlife really didn’t design them well, since they’re so easy to remove.”

 

“Okay… Will it hurt you?” You hesitated, with the knife pointed up at the sky.

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Couldn’t… You do it yourself?” You offered, although you felt guilty about suggesting it. But the idea of sticking a knife under Connor’s skin was _incredibly_ anxiety-inducing.

 

“I could, but I’d rather you do it,” Connor admitted.

 

“Okay, okay,” You took a deep breath. “I’ll do it. But… Are you sure? Completely sure? I don’t want you to do something that you might regret later.”

 

“Yes. I can’t become a human, but at least I can look like one,” You heard the sound of a coin being flicked into the air. “I just want to be normal, to keep you and Hank and everyone else I know safe _._ Please, help me.”

 

You nodded slowly and gulped down your fear as you placed one trembling hand on his head to keep him still. You gripped the knife tightly in the other, and slowly, carefully brought it up to the side of his face until the tip was hovering over his LED. You took another calming breath, as one last attempt to relax. “Okay. If it’s ever uncomfortable or you want me to stop, just, say the word and I’ll stop, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Connor breathed.

 

You turned your attention to the yellow ring in front of you. You carefully took the point of the knife and slowly pushed it under the edge of his LED. The skin around it suddenly glowed blue and disappeared, like the waves pulling back from the shore. His plastic underneath his normal skin was pristine and white. You held your breath and drove the knife in farther. His LED flashed red in warning and you squeaked in surprise. Your first instinct was to pull away, but Connor grabbed your wrist and held your hand in place.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Keep going,” Connor’s eyes were scrunched shut, and his jaw was clenched. Did it hurt? Could he even feel pain? You didn’t know. But you did know that you had already come this far, and you weren’t stopping.

 

Soon the knife was met with resistance, and when you checked, you found that it was as far in as it would go. You counted down in your head.

 

3… You swept back some of his hair to get the best view possible.

 

2… Oh God, you really were doing this…

  
1!

 

In one swift motion, you shoved the handle of the knife towards his forehead, and the LED popped right off. It flew through the air and landed in the grass a foot or so away from where you were sitting. The skin on his head melted over the empty space, leaving only a smooth, clear temple. You let out the breath you were holding, and you leaned over to retrieve his LED.

 

It was still glowing faintly as you handed it to Connor. He looked at curiously, and his other hand went up to touch the spot on his head where it used to be. It was odd to see Connor LED-less, but it definitely wasn’t a bad change. Now there was absolutely nothing about Connor’s appearance that gave away the fact that he was an android. It was weird, but also… relieving.

 

“So… what are you going to do with it?” You asked as the two of you watched the light slowly disappear.

 

Connor’s head turned towards the lake, then back down to the LED. Suddenly he stood up, and his silhouetted form made its way across the sand until he reached the water’s edge. He stood there, an inky black shadow against the stunning backdrop of stars in the sky, reflected in the water.

 

You followed him, and when you got to his side he was holding the led out in front of him, watching it intently. He looked up, and suddenly the cosmos were in his eyes. You heard him take a deep breath beside you, and you carefully reached out until the back of your hand brushed his. He firmly intertwined his fingers with yours.

 

Suddenly, Connor reared back and _threw_ the LED with all his might. His put his whole body into it, and the tiny white disc sailed through the air until it was indistinguishable from the white dots in the sky. You watched until it was completely gone.

 

Connor stayed unnaturally still, and you placed your other hand on his shoulder, leaning into his side. He let out a long exhale before he stood up straight again. Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked back to the blanket.

 

You flopped down and laid back with your eyes closed, physically and emotionally drained. You felt Connor sit down next to you, and you grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down until he was laying down on the blanket with you. You still hadn’t let go of his hand, and, in all honesty, you weren’t planning on it. It didn’t feel scary anymore. Having your hand in his just felt _right._

 

You opened your eyes and looked up at the sky. In the very top of your vision you could see the dark tips of trees, swaying in the breeze, but other than that, all you could see was stars. It almost felt like you were floating in them, like you were lightyears away.

 

“We should go soon,” Connor broke the silence. “Hank just sent me a text.”

 

“What does it say?”

 

“Where the FUCK are you two?” Hank’s angry voice came from beside you, and you felt a jolt of panic. You looked over and saw Connor’s mouth moving, and remembered he had the ability to copy voices.

 

“Jesus, Connor, that freaked me out, don’t _do_ that,” You laughed. “But yeah. Soon.”

 

Your eyes felt heavy as you closed them again, but the cold air made it impossible to get comfortable. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight off the chill. The darker it got, the colder it got, and you were really feeling it in your bones.

 

“You’re cold,” Connor stated, once again, not a question.

 

“Yeah. I probably should have worn something heavier,” You laughed through your _slightly_ chattering teeth.

 

“Here, let me help,” Connor offered as he shifted on the blanket. Before you could protest, he suddenly had his arm around your shoulders, and your body was flush against his on the blanket. As you were pressed against his side, his body slowly started to heat up, until he was pleasantly warm, just like his hands had been at the animal shelter.

 

You sighed contently, your sudden shock and anxiety ebbing as the warmth of his body washed over you. You snuggled in closer, the chilly wind trying, and failing, to break through the barrier of warmth he provided. You put your head on his shoulder, soaking in as much heat as you could. It was so cozy, in his arms. Your body fit perfectly to his side, as if it were made for you.

 

As you cozied up next to him, you dimly realized that you were too exhausted to be embarrassed. You weren’t even worried about what this meant about yours and Connor’s relationship. You didn’t care anymore. You just felt... happy. Happier than you had felt in a while. Somehow, you knew that Connor would be okay. You knew that the two of you would push through. You always did.

 

You felt Connor’s chest rumble, but you couldn’t make out what he said. You tried to ask him to repeat it, but you suddenly felt so heavy, and you were so comfortable...

 

The last thing you remembered before drifting into sleep was Connor quietly whispering, “Thank you.”

 

. . .

 

You were roused from your sleep as something slipped between the blanket and your back, shifting your shoulders. You were still mostly asleep as you felt your body being lifted from the ground. You didn’t protest, nor did you try to help bring yourself up. You were only half-lucid, feeling like you were drifting in and out of consciousness every second. You were suddenly very cold, and you made a noise of frustration, but soon the warmth was back, and you snuggled up to it. You felt like each and every one of you limbs was Jell-O, unable to muster up the strength to move them, even if you wanted to. You were like a ragdoll.

 

You felt yourself moving, being jostled slightly, as if the person carrying you was trying to not wake you up.

 

It was only when you smelled the inside of a car that you opened your eyes. You were still really out of it, and the bright lights on the inside of the self-driving car felt like floodlights aimed right into your eyes. You scrunched them shut as the person carrying you- no, it was _Connor_ carrying you, wasn’t it? As Connor carried you into the car and gently set you down on the cold leather seat. His warmth left you but was tantalizingly close as he pulled your seatbelt over your shoulder. You watched through your closed eyelids as the lights of the car went dark.

 

You felt a dip in the seat next to you as Connor sat down. You guessed you were sitting on the back row of seats. Why did he do that? Maybe they were easier to reach or whatever… You yawned a huge yawn and felt your head slowly drop onto his shoulder. You unconsciously grabbed his arm and laced your fingers through his. You felt him shift closer, until his legs were pressed up against yours. You sighed contently again as you felt yourself falling asleep again.

 

As Connor rested his head on the top of yours, you thought to yourself, _‘If this is what dating Connor is like, then I wouldn’t mind it at all…’_

 

You were fast asleep as the car slowly started to drive away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this wasn't really a short chapter, haha! Oh well. I had fun writing it, though, and I hope you enjoyed reading it!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I really appreciate all your kind words, bookmarks, kudos and hits! THANK YOU!!!!


	14. Drop Dead Gorgeous

Ear-splitting gunshots rang through the air, and you ducked down behind the car, feeling adrenaline course through your veins. You took a shaky breath and gripped your gun tighter as you waited for a lull in the standoff. You peeked up above the hood of the car and slowly pointed your gun towards the building, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

 

You looked past the shattered glass façade of the bank and into the reception area, where a tall, white man, dressed in all black was holding on to a teller, the barrel of his gun directly on the side of her head. The hostage was sheet-white and crying silently, obviously terrified. Debris was scattered everywhere, and tables, chairs and counters were upturned and pushed together to make a crude barricade. There were stairs to his right, and an elevator to his left, the latter blocked by maybe three or four large chairs. According to your briefing, there was someone stuck inside. Blue and red blood was splattered on the wooden floor and walls where the man shot the rest of the employees. The hostage had been the one to call the police before the robber attacked her.

 

Negotiations had already been attempted by that point. Nobody was able to get through to him. He shot at anything and everything that so much as moved- He was unreasonable. He kept repeating that he wanted a car, and that he’d shoot the hostage if anyone came near him. Saving the woman’s life was the most important thing. You honestly hadn’t seen anything like it, you had never been in a situation where the hostage was in so much danger.

 

You, along with your partner were crouched behind your squad car, guns drawn and pointed into the bank, waiting. There were two other police cars out front, parked bumper-to-bumper, forming their own police barricade. Tension hung in the air, neither side daring to move. The entire front of the store was destroyed, broken glass laying everywhere, bits of brick scattering the ground. The golden sky cast an intense light on the street, the slowly setting sun peeking through the slightly overcast sky. It might have been pretty if you weren’t currently in a hostage situation.

 

Maybe about twenty-five officers and SWAT members were present at the scene, all waiting, guns drawn, watching for an opening. Those twenty-five included Connor and Hank, who had been among the first to respond. But, as you looked over at them, Connor was nowhere to be seen. Your common sense fell prey to your worry, and you ignored your partner’s protests as you dashed across the sidewalk, still crouching. A bang sounded over your head, and you watched as the glass window of the flower shop across the street burst into a million pieces. You winced, and felt a hand on the back of your neck, harshly tugging your head down.

 

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” Hank hissed into your ear furiously.

 

“Where’s Connor?” You demanded, and Hank let go of your neck.

 

“You left your position just to come over here and ask me that?” Hank exclaimed, still fuming. “You dumbass! Goddamn it, you scared the shit out of me! Why the fuck did you think that was a good idea? For fuck’s sake, you could have just called me if you were that worried!”

 

“Okay, fine, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Where is he? Is he alright?” You insisted hurriedly.

 

“Jesus Christ, he’s fine! He went up the fire escape, he’s going to ambush them,” Hank explained, which did absolutely nothing to reassure you.

 

“What!? He’s insane! He’s going to get himself killed!” You exclaimed, feeling your heart start to race. Well, more than it already was.

 

“Just like somebody else I know, huh? Fucking-a, the two of you are insufferable,” Hank grumbled. “Connor can handle himself, he’s been in worse spots before. Now, get the fuck out of here _right now_ before I shoot you myself!”

 

You take a deep breath and turned around, before you carefully crawled back to your car. Your partner gave you an odd look, but you ignored it and repositioned your gun back towards the bank. You took deep breaths to zero in on the assailant and the hostage, your whole body on edge, tensed up and ready to spring into action. Connor was amazing, and you were sure that he’d be okay. It was only his third day back after his suspension, he’d know better than to do anything too risky. You trusted him.

 

Your attention was caught by something moving in the corner of your eye. You watched as a pair of black shoes slowly crept down the stairs, one at a time. You held your breath as more and more of Connor became visible as he descended. First, all you could see was his feet, then his legs slowly came into view, followed by his torso. He was pressed against the wall, out of sight of the hostage and the robber. He had a gun drawn, holding it against his chest, making himself as small as possible.

 

You stared anxiously as Connor slowly reached the ground floor and sidled along the wall, towards the back of the room. He was almost directly behind the robber, about twenty feet back, his gun pointed at the head of the man. You watched, your body gripped with fear, as Connor slowly approached them. He looked unnaturally calm, almost unbothered by them. It was dead quiet, nobody dared to make a sound. Your palms were sweaty, and your throat felt like a desert, dry and scratchy. You gulped as Connor crept forwards at a snail’s pace.

 

Suddenly, Connor took a step, and the wooden floorboards beneath him squeaked, a high-pitched, sickeningly loud sound in the silence. Your blood ran cold and you gasped as the robber spun around, twisting his body to point his gun at Connor.

 

All Connor needed was one shot. One shot, and the assailant was on the ground and the hostage was backing away and screaming.

 

Unfortunately, there were five shots.

 

One landed behind Connor’s head, barreling through the wall with a relentless ferocity. The second tore through his right leg, leaving a sickly blue trail of blood behind as it gouged a hole in his body. The third disappeared somewhere in his lower stomach, ripping through his navy jacket and white collared shirt like they were tissue paper. The fourth landed in his left shoulder, and his gun went flying out of his hand as the bullet knocked him back. Connor swayed on the spot for a moment, and you watched, frozen in shock as he fell to his knees, before he collapsed on the floor.

 

“CONNOR!” You cried, and you heard a similar shout to your right as Hank shot up from behind his car.

 

You vaulted over the hood of your car, pushing through the officers that were swarming the building. You vaguely heard your partner calling your name, but you didn’t care about your own safety anymore. Your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest as you dashed through the bank, faster than you had ever ran before. You dropped to the floor next to Connor’s motionless body, the fabric of your pants immediately soaked through with thirium and blood. Your throat felt like it was completely closed, and you gasped for air as tears threatened to stream down your face. You couldn’t cry, you needed to help Connor, you needed to _save_ him. You suppressed the urge to vomit as you desperately turned him over.

 

You let out a sigh of immeasurable relief as his blinking eyes met yours and he said your name. You were just glad that he wasn’t dead. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly as you feverishly choked out, “Connor, are you okay?!”

 

“Connor!” Suddenly Hank was there, on his knees the other side of Connor, cradling his head. “Don’t worry, Connor, don’t worry, it’s alright son, you’re gonna be okay, It’s gonna be okay.”

 

Connor looked up at you and Hank in relief. His voice wavered as he reassured the two of you, “I’m okay.”

 

Hank let out a sigh as he covered his eyes with his free hand. His relief quickly turned to anger as he bellowed, “Jesus fucking Christ, Connor, why do you never listen to me? I fucking told you to be careful! Do you know how lucky you are to be alive right now?”

 

“Believe me, Lieutenant, if I could have controlled the outcome of the situation, I certainly wouldn’t have chosen this,” Connor joked humorlessly through gritted teeth, his voice strained. Connor’s brow was furrowed, and his chest was rising and falling unevenly, irregularly, as if he was taking shallow breaths.

 

“Of course fucking not! Goddammit, you nearly gave me a heart attack! Fuck!” Hank shouted as he stood up and paced in a line, raking his hands through his hair. He was only up for a moment before he was back on the ground, frantically checking Connor’s injuries.

 

You hadn’t said anything, too afraid to open your mouth, still shaking and hyperventilating. You ignored your trembling hands and pulled back Connor’s jacket, to look at the wound in his shoulder. His clothes were stained blue, and you inhaled sharply as you peered inside the gaping hole. You could see exposed wires and metal, sparking and pulsing with electricity, thirium slowly streaming out of the broken pieces. Connor always seemed so human, and even though you knew he was made of plastic and wiring, it was still jarring to see it in person. You knew nothing about androids, but even you could tell that that three big holes wasn’t good.

 

“H-he’s losing a lot of thirium,” You stammered rapidly, pure terror gripping your body and mind.

 

“Connor, run a diagnostic,” Hank barked, and Connor complied, his eyes blinking repeatedly.

 

“My central nervous system is compromised in my legs. One of the shots severed the connections there. I can’t stand or walk,” He grimaced, looking up at the ceiling. “The joint in my shoulder is damaged beyond repair, and my arm is unresponsive as well. Several of my key biocomponents are damaged or have completely lost function.”

 

“How long before you bleed out?” You asked desperately, grabbing on to his hand.

 

“Twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds remaining before shutdown,” Connor responded immediately, like he was reading something. His face twitched and contorted, as if he was in pain.

 

“Shit,” Hank hissed at the same time that you exclaimed, “Fuck!”

 

“What-what do we do?” You desperately tried to stay calm as your anxiety that was already at an all-time high started to rise again. “S-should we call an ambulance?”

 

“They’d never take an android, they’d just laugh in our face!” Hank responded, his voice cracking. “We need to take him to a hospital-”

 

“Hospitals are only for humans, Hank! Even if we did get him there in time, they wouldn’t be able to do anything!” You cried.

 

“Well then what do you fucking suggest?!” Hank bellowed, throwing his arms out exasperatedly.

 

“I-I don’t know, I don’t know what to do,” You brought your hands up to your face and wrapped them around your neck, which was tight and stinging from trying not to cry. “All I know is that we can’t let him shut down, we can’t, we can’t lose him, _I_ can’t lose him, he-”

 

“Cyberlife,” Connor suddenly blurted, and both you and Hank looked down at him. He didn’t elaborate, and his forced tone of voice implied that it was hard to speak.

 

Your eyes suddenly widened in understanding. “The Cyberlife stores! They repair androids! The closest one is a few miles from here, we could still make it!”

 

“We need to leave _right now_ then,” Hank said urgently. He pulled something out of his pocket, and before you knew what was happening, he had pressed his keys into your hands. You almost dropped them as they slipped in your sweaty, thirium-covered palms. You looked up at him, and saw that he was pointing towards the front windows. “My car’s parked down the street, go get it!”

 

“Okay!” You sprung up from the ground, and without a second thought, you turned and ran. You dashed past other cops and jumped over rubble as you sprinted out of the bank. Your legs felt like they were made out of pudding and your chest was burning, but you kept putting one foot in front of the other until you were out of the building and barreling down the sidewalk. You saw Hank’s old, beat up car, and you picked up the pace even more. You dropped into the front seat, slammed the door behind you, didn’t bother with the seatbelt, and put the key into the ignition. It was only when it sputtered to life that you realized that you had a problem.

 

You didn’t know how to drive a manual transmission.

 

You hesitated with one hand on the wheel and one on the gearshift. You shook your head roughly and put it in first gear. You pressed down on the gas and the car jerked to a start. You grabbed tightly onto the wheel as you drove forwards, completely terrified.

 

Somehow, you managed to park behind the barricade of police cars without hitting anything. You saw Hank holding Connor in his arms in a bridal carry, and you jumped out of the car, not bothering to close the door. You pulled open the back seats as fast as you could, and climbed inside without a second thought. You grabbed Connor’s shoulders and helped Hank maneuver him into the car, until his head was resting on your lap. Hank hurried over to the driver’s side, and as soon as he was in, turned on his lights and sirens. The car sped down the street, and you finally looked down at Connor.

 

His eyes were shut tight, and he had a pained expression on his face. You gently took his hand in yours, and his eyes fluttered open to look at you.

 

“Does it hurt?” You murmured, trying to stay calm, for his sake, as well as your own.

 

“Androids don’t feel pain,” Connor responded through labored breaths. “But it’s not pleasant.”

 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, feeling the tears you had been holding back finally break free. They dripped down onto his blue-stained shirt, mixing with the thirium.

 

“Don’t be,” You felt Connor give your hand a squeeze. “I’ll be fine. I can easily be rebuilt if I shut down.”

 

“But what if they _won’t_ rebuild you?” You cried out in fear, your voice breaking.

 

“I’ll be _fine,_ ” He insisted. “But please, talking uses excess thirium that I don’t have.”

 

“Right, right, sorry…” You tried to wipe your eyes, but you felt the thirium on your hands smear on your cheeks. You wiped your hands on you shirt, which was also covered in blue blood. _Connor’s_ blood. You held back the urge to vomit again, and opted for watching Connor’s face.

 

He looked like he really was in pain, no matter what he said. Your heart sank as you watched him twitch in your lap, desperate to do something to help him. You took your left hand and gently stroked his hair, pushing back the wayward strands that hung over his forehead. Someone playing with your hair always calmed you down, and you hoped the same would apply to Connor.

 

To your relief, Connor visibly relaxed and melted into your touch. You ignored the thirium slowly dripping onto your legs and softly raked your hands through Connor’s hair, over and over again. You petted his head with light, rhythmic strokes as Hank drove through the city, sirens blaring.

 

“Are we almost there?” You called to him.

 

“A little over halfway,” Hank responded gruffly. “How’s he doing?”

 

You were about to respond when Connor opened his mouth. His voice was garbled, and had a robotic tinge to it. Your heart plummeted as he answered for you. “Seven minutes and thirteen seconds remaining before shutdown.”

 

Your anxiety kicked back into high gear. You felt the car speed up slightly, and saw Hank grip the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. “Hang on, son, hang on,” He muttered.

 

You gulped, even though your mouth was bone-dry. Suddenly, you felt Connor’s hand leave yours, and you felt a flash of intense panic as you whipped your head down. Connor was reaching into his pocket, and you didn’t have time to register what he was doing before he pulled out his coin. He weakly held it out to you, and you shook your head.

 

“Connor, I don’t understand,” Your voice broke again. With the coin still in between his fingers, he grabbed your hand and dropped it into your palm. It was cold, and you stared down at the DPD logo. You shook your head again, and your brows furrowed. “Connor, that’s yours. You’ll need it when you get repaired.”

 

“Take… it,” Connor told you as he closed your fingers around it. “Just… in case.”

 

“No, Connor,” You began, but his eyelids had fallen again. You looked at the coin, eyes stinging. He didn’t have to say what it was in case of. Tears spilled out like a river, and you held back your choked sobs. You closed your eyes as well, and took in huge, shaky breaths. You thought about the sunset on the beach, and how happy and carefree you had felt around him. You _couldn’t_ lose him. You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

 

You suddenly felt a far-off memory floating in your mind. It was from your childhood. You vaguely remembered a warm, comforting presence, singing a familiar song to you as you fell asleep in their arms.

 

It was childish, and simple, but it always worked. You looked down at Connor, the man you _loved_ with _all your heart,_ who was slowly dying in your arms, and you realized that all you could think about was the song. The childishness and silliness of it didn’t matter. All you wanted was for him to be calm.

 

You took a shaky breath, and started to sing.

 

“ _You are my sunshine,”_ You began, quietly, your voice faltering. You cleared your throat, willing the tears away, and started again.

 

_“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.”_

Connor’s eyes opened and met yours weakly, his jaw clenched tightly. Your hand went back to his hair, and the taut muscles in his face slowly loosened.

 

_“You make me happy, when skies are grey,”_

 

You glanced out the window at the slowly darkening sky, the sun hidden by the tall buildings. You looked back at Connor as you sang the song that had never once failed to calm your worried heart. You leaned down, your face only inches from his, as you continued.

 

_“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,”_

 

You felt him squeeze your hand again, and your eyes stung as a tear gently dropped down onto his face. You wiped it away with your thumb as you leaned back slightly, unable to stop the silent tears that were cascading down your cheeks.

 

_“P-please don’t take-”_ Your voice cracked as you held back a sob. Your lip quivered as you took a deep, steadying breath.

 

_“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”_

 

You finished the verse, pleadingly, almost desperately. Connor’s eyes closed again, but his hand stayed firmly in yours. You were amazed by just how calm he looked, and even more amazed by just how calm you _felt._ You felt like the tension in your shoulders and chest had dissolved. You looked up, slightly embarrassed that Hank was listening, but you saw that his hands had relaxed their death grip on the steering wheel. You rubbed away the tears with your sleeve, and sang on.

 

_“The other night dear, as I lay sleeping,_

_I dreamt I held you in my arms._

_When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken,_

_And I hung my head and I cried.”_

 

Your fingers buried themselves in his hair again and again, and you gently stroked the back of his hand with your thumb. You couldn’t do much to help him, and that made you feel useless, helpless, and small. But being able to keep him calm and relaxed was the most you could do. At least if he did… At least he’d be able to go peacefully, you thought. You shook those ideas from your mind as you sang the melody again.

 

_“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

_You make me happy, when skies are grey._

_You’ll never know dear, how much I love you._

_Please don’t take my sunshine away.”_

The three of you were silent as Hank drove the rest of the way to the Cyberlife store. After the revolution, Cyberlife had stopped selling androids, but Cyberlife stores stayed open, providing maintenance and repairs, as well as updates and new upgrades. You’ve even heard from Connor that Cyberlife has stopped building androids, and was now focused on designing ways for androids to be even more human-like, like the ability to eat food, and the five senses. You though it was great that they were working to improve android lives, rather than selling them.

 

Hank haphazardly parked across the street from the store, and you pushed open your door. Connor’s eyes stayed closed, and you felt red-hot panic flood your veins. You squeezed his hand and gently shook his good shoulder. “Connor, we’re here. We have to go!”

 

To your relief, his eyelids opened, but he was staring off at something far away, not entirely present. You fought back your fear as Hank grabbed Connor’s shoulders and pulled him out of the car. You helped him pick Connor up again, and you led the way as he carried Connor across the street.

 

You burst through the automatic doors of the store, and the two receptionists looked up, shocked. You must have had an urgent look on your face because they stopped whatever they were doing and stood up. They still looked confused, and the female receptionist opened her mouth to say something, but the doors behind you opened again, and her eyes went wide and she gasped as Hank stood beside you, Connor in his arms.

 

“He’s been shot and needs help,” You explained rapidly, and immediately both employees sprang into action. The woman ran off through a pair of double doors behind her, while the man rushed over to take Connor from Hank’s arms.

 

“What’s his condition? Can he speak?” The man asked as Hank slowly lowered Connor’s feet to the ground. Hank started to answer, but Connor interrupted him as he leaned his weight on the receptionist’s shoulder.

 

“One minute and forty one seconds remaining before shutdown,” Came from Connor’s mouth, but it wasn’t his voice. It sounded completely mechanical, like something out of an old sci-fi movie. Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, and the man sucked in a breath.

 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the double doors burst open with a bang, and the woman came running out pushing a stretcher. The man lifted Connor onto it, and whispered something into her ear. She gasped softly, and nodded before she turned and sped off with the stretcher through the doors again.

 

The man started to follow her. “Is he going to be alright?” You called after him in a panic.

 

“Don’t worry, he’s in good hands,” He reassured you, and you watched as he raised a hand and the skin disappeared, revealing shiny white plastic beneath it.

 

“How long do you think-” Hank began, but the man had already followed the woman through the doors.

 

You let out an exhausted sigh, and felt Hank place a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him, and without thinking, you threw your arms around him and buried your face into his jacket. He smelled like dogs, pizza, and only faintly of whiskey. It was an improvement on the past, when he constantly smelled overwhelmingly of alcohol. Hank returned the hug, and you felt the tension in your chest and throat snap. Your cries came out in huge sobs as you let out all the emotions you had been bottling up to keep yourself and Connor calm. All the terror, all the uncertainty, all the sorrow came spilling out of you like the tears that were spilling down onto his jacket. Your whole body shook as you cried in Hank’s arms.

 

Hank patted your back comfortingly, and when you had calmed down a bit, you heard a sniff from above you. You looked up, surprised by the redness of Hank’s eyes and the tear that he was wiping away. He sniffed again, and you smiled weakly up at him. He cleared his throat, and you slowly let go of him.

 

“Don’t worry, kid. This isn’t the first time he’s died and come back,” Hank was joking, but your eyes widened.

 

“It’s _NOT?”_ You exclaimed, and Hank sighed, back to his normal, grumpy self.

 

“Forget I said that,” He grunted, and he sat down on one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs behind you. You started to take the seat next to him, but he stopped you. “Wait a minute.”

 

You tilted your head at him. “What?”

 

“Only one of us needs to stay here. You should go home and get some rest,” He told you, but you shook your head.

 

“Hank, I’m staying,” You insisted.

 

“No, you’re not. You’re going home, and you’re resting,” Hank demanded, and when you opened your mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “Zip it, you hear me? I am _ordering_ you to go home. I’ll stay, and text you when he’s out.”

 

“We could take shifts. You need rest too!” You argued.

 

“No way. Do you know what you’ll do if you stay here? You’ll just get anxious, and then you’ll start making _me_ anxious. Now, get the fuck out of here before I drive you home myself,” Hank ordered. While you didn’t want to leave, you didn’t want _nobody_ to be there for Connor, even for the shortest amount of time. You were stubborn, but Hank was a force to be reckoned with, and you realized that it was a losing battle. You sighed, and pulled out your phone to call a taxi.

 

“You’ll text me with updates, though, right?” You practically begged, and Hank nodded.

 

“I’ll call you if anything big happens,” He promised, and you nodded, still not completely satisfied, but you’d just have to deal with it. You sat down, and waited for the taxi to arrive.

 

When you were about to leave, you looked back at the brightly lit store. The gigantic holographic screen above it that used to display pictures of androids with the caption, “GET YOURS TODAY” was dark, along with most of the plaza. You looked up, and saw nothing but the charcoal night sky.

 

You sighed, turned back to the taxi, and shakily stepped in.

 

Connor would be okay.

 

He had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was the chapter title again...?


	15. Beloved

You unlocked your door and sluggishly pushed yourself into your home. You immediately dropped your keys, kicked off your shoes and shuffled into the bathroom. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, feeling completely drained as you placed your palms on the bathroom counter and bowed your head. You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your shaking hands and relieve some of the pressure on your chest. It felt like your heart was being crushed by a hydraulic press, and _that_ hydraulic press was being crushed by an even bigger hydraulic press.

 

You looked up, into the mirror. The first thing you saw were the purple and brown bags under your puffy, red eyes. Your face had smudges of electric blue, and your hands looked like somebody had shoved them into a tub of blueberries. Your shirt was splattered with thirium, and your pants were completely soaked through. You were covered in _Connor’s blood._ You suddenly felt sick.

 

You rushed to the toilet and yanked the lid open as you stumbled to the floor. You gripped the sides of the seat as you finally vomited up the contents of your stomach. Your throat burned as you coughed and gagged into the bowl. You felt like death, and you purposefully avoided looking at the puke as you weakly lowered the lid and flushed it down the drain. The disgusting taste in your mouth was almost unbearable, but you couldn’t find the strength to stand up. You crossed your arms on the toilet and put your head down on them. You tried to take deep breaths, but the smell of thirium on you made your stomach churn again. You pushed up the lid and threw up for a second time that night.

 

“Ugh… Disgusting…” You groaned as you flushed the toilet again. You realized that if you ever wanted to stop vomiting you had to get rid of your bloodstained clothes.

 

You held on to the counter for support as you pulled yourself up until you were in a standing position. As quickly as you could without barfing again, you peeled off your bloody clothes and threw them into the trash can across the room. No way in hell you’d wear those again, even if you _did_ manage to wash the thirium out of them. You raked a hand through your hair as you inhaled for five seconds, held for five, and exhaled for five.

 

You repeated that pattern, in five, hold five, out five, over and over again, comforted by the consistency of it. Once you were somewhat calm, you picked up your toothbrush and vigorously brushed your teeth in an attempt to wash the vile taste from your mouth. You even pulled out the mouthwash from the cupboard and swished it around in your mouth. It didn’t help a ton, but it was a start. You tossed your contaminated toothbrush in the garbage as well, before you drifted over to the shower and turned on the water.

 

You sat on the edge of the bathtub as you waited for the water to heat up. You couldn’t help but think about when Connor had sat with you on the very same tub and cleaned the wounds on your hands after the game. You felt the mist from the shower on your back, the tiny warm droplets peppering your clammy skin. You were reminded of the time you and Connor spent at the waterfall.

 

You shook your head violently and rose up from your seat, determined to not dwell in the past. You pulled the curtain closed as you stepped under the faucet. You sighed as the warm water fell on your body, helping to release some of the tension in your shoulders and neck. You closed your eyes and stood as the water streamed down. The relaxation it brought was an immense relief.

 

You opened your eyes and looked down at your hands. The thirium there had dried, and wasn’t rinsing off. You picked up the soap and washed your hands and arms, to remove all traces of it from your skin. You let the suds fall away, and inspected your hands. They looked clean, but you still felt so _filthy_. You felt like your entire body was covered with a nauseating, repulsive, slimy film, and you wanted so badly to _get it off_.

 

You snatched the soap back up and started to scrub furiously, rubbing your skin raw as you desperately tried to wipe the blood off. You washed your skin again and again, never satisfied, still feeling unclean. You dropped the soap in your frenzy, and as you knelt down to pick it up, you hesitated. The drops of hot water stung as they pelted the red, irritated skin on your arms and legs. You dropped to your knees and felt tears brimming in your eyes again. You felt so out of control. So lost. So _alone_. The flimsy walls you had built broke, and you started to cry as the water rained down on your back. Your tears disappeared as they fell into the tub along with all the pellets of water. It was almost like you weren’t even crying.

 

You felt dehydrated as you pushed off the ground and stood back up. You couldn’t just sit there and feel _sorry for yourself_. You couldn’t just fall apart. You just needed to keep moving forward.

 

Really, that was all you _could_ do.

 

You hastily finished your shower and changed into your favorite comfy pajamas. You decided to listen to Hank for once, and you climbed into bed. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get comfortable. Time seemed impossibly slow, like your entire world was encased in molasses. You even _felt_ slow and sluggish. You just couldn’t get comfortable, and your brain wouldn’t stop thinking. With a sigh, you accepted that you probably wouldn’t get any sleep until you knew Connor was okay. _If_ Connor would be okay.

 

You slipped out of bed, decidedly _not_ following that train of thought. You went to the kitchen and turned on the light. The stove read 12:23 AM, an hour and a half since you got home, and two hours since Connor was admitted to the Cyberlife store. It wasn’t _that_ late. Or, early, you supposed. You sat down at the table and let your head drop onto the cool surface. You tapped your fingers against the wood, wishing for something to do.

 

You picked up your phone and opened up messages. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Nichts. Absolutely no new texts. You sighed again, and rested you cheek against your outstretched arm on the table.

 

You felt restless, anxious, fidgety. You were desperate for something to occupy your time, something to do, _anything_ to keep your mind off waiting.

 

Suddenly, you thought about Hank. He was still at the Cyberlife store. He couldn’t go home to shower and get clothes that weren’t covered in blood. He was stuck there. You wondered why he had refused to take shifts. But, nevertheless, you rose from your chair and went to your bedroom closet to change out of pajamas and into regular clothes.

 

You grabbed your wallet and keys and locked your door behind you as you walked out into the chilly early fall night.

 

It was time to break into Hank’s house.

 

. . .

 

Okay, so, maybe you didn’t _really_ break in.

 

Connor had told you in the past that the window into the kitchen didn’t lock. It had been broken ever since he leapt through it to save an unconscious Hank about a year ago. Cyberlife had paid for the damages, of course, but Hank decided to pocket the money and just try to fix the window himself. He had a “buddy” that owed him a favor, so he got the window pane, new wood frame and all, for free. The window worked, but the latch didn’t, and that was because Hank had installed it backwards. You never figured out how he had managed to do that, but Hank refused to fix it again, saying it wasn’t worth his time, and that the only one “stupid enough” to break into his house was Connor. Well, now you _and_ Connor were stupid enough, so really, you got the last laugh.

 

You hoped Hank’s neighbors wouldn’t see you climbing through his window and call the police. It would be _really_ awkward to be caught breaking into the Lieutenant’s house by one of your coworkers. That was a conversation you _really_ didn’t want to have.

 

You dropped into Hank’s kitchen silently, and you felt your way through the dark until you reached the light switch. The kitchen was illuminated, and you took a moment to appreciate the affect Connor was having on Hank. The counters were all spotless, and there was no half-eaten food or empty pizza boxes anywhere. His liquor stash seemed to be diminishing too. You felt a flash of pride for Connor. No matter what Hank said, he really was a good influence on him.

 

You were suddenly greeted by two very large, very hungry dogs. Sumo barked once at you as he padded over to sniff your feet. Cali jumped up onto her hind legs and placed her front paws on your stomach, her tail wagging wildly. You knelt down to pet the two of them, and you were met with a barrage of dog kisses as Cali tried to lick your face and ears. You giggled and held her back, happy to laugh again. You stood up and went to the sink to wipe slobber off your face.

 

You opened a cupboard and pulled out a comically large bag of dog food. You refilled Cali and Sumo’s food and water bowls, after you let them roam outside for a little bit. You wondered when the last time they were fed was, as they devoured all their food as soon as you poured it.

 

Once the two of them had calmed down, you got started on finding some food to bring to Hank. Your stomach felt empty as well, but you doubted you’d be able to keep anything down, and you didn’t _really_ feel like trying.

 

You opened the fridge and peered inside. “Let’s see… Milk, apple juice, eggs, butter, Tupperware containers I don’t have the time or patience to look through, LOTS of fruits and vegetables, good job Connor… Uh… Soy sauce, barbeque sauce, ranch… Hmm… Nothing I could really use…” You mumbled to yourself as you moved objects around, scanning the contents of the fridge.

 

You picked up a glass container full of leftover chicken. “I wonder…” You muttered as you put it on the counter and closed the fridge. You opened up cupboard after cupboard, searching. At last, you discovered a shelf full of canned goods. You checked every can until you found what you were looking for. You held up a can of chicken broth, surprised that they actually had one. “Here we are!”

 

Next, you found a large pot, noodles, vegetables and spices. Chicken noodle soup was just one of those foods that can make people happy. You were just glad to have something to do.

 

When you finally finished chopping up everything and had mixed it all into the pot, you checked the clock. 1:47, it read. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. How on earth was it possible to be exhausted and energized at the same time? You placed the lid on the pot to let it simmer while you went into Hanks’s room to find him some clean clothes.

 

Hank’s room was not nearly as tidy as the kitchen, but it still was an improvement from how it used to be before Connor lived there. You walked to his closet, careful not to step on anything on the floor. You opened his closet and gagged at the sight of all his tacky shirts. Hank’s fashion sense was ridiculous. You pulled out a collared shirt you had seen him wear sometimes, a clean pair of jeans, and a black T-shirt. You folded them as neatly as you could, and you were about to bring them back to the kitchen when something caught your eye.

 

There was a faint blue glow coming from the very back of the closet. You pushed back all of Hank’s clothes, and uncovered Connor’s old Cyberlife jacket. Your breath got caught in your throat as you looked at the glowing lettering on the grey fabric. You tentatively reached out and grabbed the sleeve, trying to remember the last time you had seen Connor wear it. Probably sometime before his first party, maybe a month or two ago? You weren’t sure, but you knew you hadn’t seen it on him lately. In all honesty, you were glad he stopped wearing it. It might have been his style, but it was just a constant reminder that he used to be a machine. He seemed a lot more… himself, lately. More open, and independent. It was a good change. You supposed the retiring of his jacket was a physical representation of his growth from an android to something more.

 

As you looked at the clothes next to the jacket, you realized that everything on that side of the closet was too small for Hank. Upon further inspection, you found that you recognized some of the clothes as things Connor had worn before. You saw the light blue collared shirt with a white and red plaid design that Connor had worn when the two of you went to the animal shelter together. The navy sweater he had worn with it was on its own hanger next to it, and next to that, his brown leather jacket. You looked through all his clothes, finding the ones you’d seen before and the ones that he’d never worn around you.

 

Your hand hovered over a plain, white collared shirt. It was so simple looking, so clean. It perfectly reflected Connor as a person. Versatile, pristine. It was the kind of shirt you had seen him wear almost every day to work. Maybe _the_ shirt. Androids didn’t sweat or anything like it, so you wondered if he washed his clothes as frequently as you did.

 

You slowly reached into the closet and pulled the shirt off the hanger. You felt the soft fabric on your skin as you turned it over in your hands. You, rather self-consciously, held it up to your face and breathed in. It smelled just like him, which you probably shouldn’t have found as surprising as you did.

 

You sat on the edge of Hank’s bed and wrapped your arms around the shirt, holding it as close to you as possible. You took inhaled deeply into the fabric, trying to breathe in as much of its scent as possible. Part of you was aware that you were being super fucking creepy, but the bigger, emotionally unstable part of you didn’t care. You sighed into the shirt. It smelled familiar. Comforting. Maybe you were biased, but you thought it smelled wonderful.

 

With a start, you realized that you had left the soup unattended for too long. You carefully hung his shirt back up, and with one final glance at it, you picked up Hank’s clothes and went back to the kitchen.

 

You searched through the kitchen until you found a bag, a large thermos, and a spoon. You filled up a water bottle for Hank as well, and placed it in the bag along with his clothes. After a taste test to see if the soup was okay and you thankfully didn’t throw up, you poured as much of it as you could into the thermos and put it into the bag as well. You packed the leftover soup in a plastic container and placed it in the fridge. If Hank didn’t like it, you could always come and get it later.

 

Once you were sure you had done everything you wanted to do, you called a taxi and waited.

 

. . .

 

When you got to the Cyberlife store, you found that Hank was asleep. He was slouching in the chair, his arms folded on his chest, face pointed up at the ceiling, mouth open, and snoring. You quietly approached him and tapped him on the shoulder.

 

Hank grunted at your touch and woke with a start, his arms uncrossing to rest on the armrests. He looked up at you, confused for a second, before it seemed to click in his mind. “What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to go home.”

 

“I did go home,” You explained. “And I did try to rest, but I just couldn’t fall asleep. I see _you_ didn’t have any trouble with that, though.”

 

“You’re an asshole,” Hank grumbled as he pushed himself up into a more upright sitting position. You sat down in the chair next to him as he asked, “Why are you back?”

 

“I, uh,” You handed him the bag, and he gave you an odd look. “Thought you might like some food. And clean clothes.”

 

“Thanks…” Hank pulled out the clothes first. He looked at them for a moment, before he turned back to you. “Wait. You fucking _broke into my house_?”

 

You winced and drew in a breath through your gritted teeth. “I… wouldn’t think of it as breaking in. How about… entering without telling you first?”

 

Hank opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. “Look, I appreciate it, but don’t ever do that shit again. You’re lucky I’m starving.”

 

And with that, Hank left to go change in the bathroom. It wasn’t very long until he was back, and as soon as he sat down, he picked up the thermos and spoon.

 

“Chicken soup?” He asked as he unscrewed the cap and peered inside.

 

“Yeah. There wasn’t a lot of food in your house, but I hope you like it anyway,” Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

 

“You stole my fucking food too?”

 

“Well, I didn’t eat any of it! I just… used it to make you soup! Without your permission…” You started to argue, but you trailed off. “Yeah, there’s pretty much no way I can have the moral high ground here.”

 

“You could have just texted me and _asked_ if you could go to my house,” Hank suggested as he poured some soup into the cap.

 

“Have you heard anything yet?” You asked quietly, after a moment of silence. You didn’t need to elaborate. Hank understood.

 

“Nothing, yet. I don’t want to pressure them, though. They’re already keeping the store open just for us. The least we can do is give them time and space,” Hank explained as he blew on a spoonful of soup. He ate it, and nodded his head approvingly. “Good soup.”

 

You smiled tiredly. “Thanks… And you’re right, they’re being very generous. I- I can help pay however much this costs-”

 

“Connor and I have got it covered,” Hank said through a mouthful of soup.

 

“No, Hank I _want_ to help-”

 

“I’m paying you back for bringing me all this, okay? This is my way of saying thank you, so shut your goddamn mouth before I pour this soup on you.”

 

You laughed lightly, smiling. The two of you sat in silence for a while as Hank ate. He devoured the entire thermos worth of soup, so you guessed that he really _was_ starving.

 

After he finished, he packed the thermos away, and looked at you like he had something he wanted to say. You stayed quiet.

 

“Well, now is as good of a time as any to ask…” Hank began, scratching his beard. Your mind raced to all the possibilities, confused and somewhat alarmed. “…What’s been going on between you and Connor?”

 

You involuntarily recoiled a tiny bit, surprised. You shook your head and hastily answered, “Nothing.”

 

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I’m not an idiot,” Hank jabbed a finger at you. “I see the way you two act around each other. For God’s sake, the two of you were gone for an entire DAY a couple weeks ago, and when Connor got back he was all dopey and smiley, not to mention missing his LED. “Nothing” my ass. Are you two dating yet? Because you’re certainly acting like it.”

 

“No! …Maybe? Honestly, Hank I have no idea! There are times when I think he likes me but also times where I’m really not sure!” You nervously rambled as you avoided eye contact.

 

“Bullshit. You’ve got to be denser than lead to not notice that he’s head over heels for you. Kid’s a mess when it comes to you. I’ve never seen anything make him act so crazy.”

 

You stayed silent, but you couldn’t stop the smile that was creeping its way onto your face. Connor _liked_ you! Connor was _CRAZY_ about you! You grinned like an idiot at the floor as Hank continued.

 

“As his mentor, or partner or whatever,” Hank began.

 

“COUGHCOUGH ** _FATHER_** COUGCOUGH,” You interrupted him with a sudden, mysterious coughing fit.

 

“Fuck you. Now, if you’d let me _finish,_ I was going to say that I give you two my “blessing” or whatever moronic thing people say these days,” Hank did air quotes on “blessing,” and said it in such a way that implied he had a severe distaste for that particular word. “My point is, you’re a good kid, and I think you’re good _for_ him. He seems happier these days, and I think that’s partially because of you. Just be _CAREFUL._ You certainly weren’t at the Tigers game a few weeks ago.”

 

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but he held up a hand again. “I don’t want to hear it. Just remember, not everyone is as accepting of androids as you and I are.”

 

“I know. I’ll be careful, I promise,” You swore wholeheartedly. “And… Thanks, Hank. I really appreciate it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Now, get out of here and try to get some sleep.”

 

This time you didn’t protest. “Okay. Please, call me if anything serious happens, okay?”

 

“I will,” Hank replied. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes as you left the store for the second time that night.

 

. . .

 

You laid down in your bed and stared up at the ceiling, exhausted, but unable to fall asleep. You watched the lights from the street outside as they filtered through the window and danced on your walls. You couldn’t stop thinking about _him._

You weren’t sure what you thought about Connor’s feelings for you. You were obviously thrilled, but you were also _terrified._ How serious of a relationship were the two of you ready for? Would your family and friends accept you? What if Hank was wrong about Connor liking you back? What if, what if, what if. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton and wrapped in bubble wrap.  It had done enough thinking in the past 24 hours to last a lifetime.

 

You worried about Connor, who was still in the android equivalent of emergency surgery. You hoped he’d be okay. You just wanted him back. You didn’t know what you would do if he died. You didn’t know what _Hank_ would do. He couldn’t lose _another_ son. The poor guy’s heart would break again, just after it was finally starting to heal. You had never really taken the time to think about how much Connor affected the lives of everyone around him before.

 

If you did lose Connor, though, your biggest regret would have been that you never told him how much you loved him. That you never told him how much he meant to you, and how badly you wanted to spend every day with him. That you never told him how important, and special, and _wonderful_ he was. You couldn’t stand the thought of him dying, alone and afraid, thinking that you never saw him as anything more than a friend.

 

As soon as you saw him again, whenever that would be, you’d tell him how you felt. You wouldn’t hold back. You didn’t know how much time the two of you had left on this planet, but you did know that you didn’t want to waste any more of it.

 

You wished time would speed up, just for that night.

 

But, of course, that was impossible.

 

All you could do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And waiting is exactly what you'll be doing... until the next update!  
> I was feeling inspired and had time to write today, so that's why I uploaded two days in a row.  
> But yeah... Don't get too comfortable ; )


	16. Sort Of

The minutes ticked away like a maddening metronome, each second passing at an agonizingly slow pace. You laid on your side and stared at your dark phone, silently begging it to light up.

 

You were tired, but every time you closed your eyes you thought about the bullets ripping through Connor’s body like he was made out of aluminum foil. You were hungry, but every time you considered eating, your churning stomach reminded you of throwing up. So, you waited, sprawled out under the covers, for something, _anything,_ to happen.

 

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were stirred the sound of your phone ringing. Your bedroom was still dark and quiet, apart from the ringing on the nightstand next to you. You blearily rubbed your baggy, puffy eyes, confused and completely out of it. Who would call you in the middle of the night? Mid-yawn, you were chilled to the bone as you remembered.

 

“ _Connor,”_ You gasped, suddenly wide awake. A surge of panic flowed through you as you flung off the covers and lunged for the phone, banging your arm on the side of the table in the process. You winced, but ignored the pain as you snatched up your phone. It was a call from Hank.

 

You hastily answered and held it up to your face, trembling. “Hank?”

 

Hank didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “He’s home.”

 

“I’m coming over there right now,” You announced, and before he could respond you ended the call, threw the phone down onto the pillows and raced to your closet. A wave of intense dizziness overcame you from the sudden movement, and you leaned on the wall for support. You felt nauseous again as you took deep steadying breaths and waited for your head to clear. You felt like someone had taken a brick and repeatedly bashed your skull with it. Your entire body was fatigued and your limbs felt heavy. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the immense weight, before you shook your head and carried on.

 

You flung open your closet and pulled on a random pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. You didn’t bother to do anything with your hair as you grabbed your wallet, phone and keys off the nightstand. You shoved on a mismatched pair of socks before you raced into the hall. You were maybe _too_ fast, as you immediately slid on the wood floor and crashed to the ground with a bang. Your limbs screamed in protest as you shakily heaved yourself off of the floor and scrambled into the kitchen, hissing in pain.

 

You yanked open the fridge and pulled out an emergency energy drink. With your phone in one hand you simultaneously called a taxi and cracked open the can. You ignored the bad taste as you chugged the drink, desperate for caffeine. You threw the empty can into the recycling bin as you felt your stomach cry out in agony. You shook your head and staggered over to the kitchen sink, where you haphazardly splashed your face with cold water. You were unwilling to go into the bathroom again, and see how disgusting you looked in the mirror. You felt like twice-reheated garbage as you pulled on your jacket and a random pair of shoes that happened to be your heavy-duty hiking boots. You shrugged, too preoccupied to care about your appearance. All that mattered was seeing Connor.

_Connor,_ you thought desperately as you tied the laces on your boots.

 

_He’s okay. He’s alive. He’s safe. You can relax now. He’s okay. You’re okay. It’s okay._

You walked into the hall and tried to calm down as you waited by the door for the taxi to come and pick you up. You lived close enough to everything to walk or bike, but Hank’s house was just too far away. It was one of the few times you wished you owned a car.

 

You leaned your back against the door and raked an unsteady hand through your messy hair. You glanced at the clock on your phone. The numbers 6:09 glared up at you from its bright screen. _Jesus Christ_ , you thought. It was only 6? In the last 24 hours you had worked a full 10 hour shift, went through a high-stress hostage situation, witnessed one of your best friends and the person you loved more than anything get _shot,_ rushed him to what was basically an android hospital, threw up _twice,_ broke into the Lieutenant’s house, cooked soup for him, went _back_ to Cyberlife, had a heart-to-heart with Hank, came back home, tried to sleep but just ended up lying awake for _forever_ , and, when you finally _did_ sleep, it was maybe for only an hour or so. And now, you were going _back_ to Hank’s house. Goddamn, what a day. You sighed as you tucked your phone back into your pocket.

 

But in the end, none of that mattered. You were doing this for _Connor,_ and you’d do it all over again if that’s what it took to keep him safe.

 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and when you looked out the window, you saw your taxi was waiting for you. You hurried down to the street and jumped in as soon as the door slid open.

 

“115 Michigan Drive,” You demanded as you sat down. The car sped off, and you tapped your feet impatiently. You were _so sick_ of waiting.

 

. . .

 

When you finally arrived at Hank’s house, you squeezed your way out of the car before the door had even opened all the way. You dashed up to the porch, accidentally tripping on the steps and stumbling into the door. You growled at your ridiculously uncoordinated and weary legs as you straightened up and brushed yourself off. You held up a shaking hand and anxiously knocked on the door. You fiddled with your sleeves as you waited. It seemed like waiting was all you had done that night.

 

You heard the lock flick, and suddenly the door was wide open and you were face-to-face with Hank. You looked at him and frantically asked, “Where is he?”

 

Hank didn’t say a word. He stepped out of the way, and you looked past him and into the living room. And there, standing at the end of the hall, alive and well, was Connor.

 

He locked eyes with you, a curious, somewhat surprised and sheepish expression on his face. He looked clean in his perfectly ironed white collared shirt, black pants, and black socks. His hair was perfectly coiffed, like it had been before his deviancy. It was such a stark contrast from how bloody and disheveled he was the last time you saw him. He was motionless, his arms hanging frozen at his side as he looked at you.

 

You let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whimper as you pushed past Hank and ran to him. You flung your arms around him, and he stumbled back a bit in surprise as he caught you.

 

You didn’t even attempt to hold back the tears as they came flooding out. His sturdy arms wrapped around you as you hugged him with all your might, squeezing him so tightly that he wouldn’t have been able to breathe if he was human. You held on to him desperately, as if he would leave you again the second you let go. You buried your face in his shirt as you sobbed, all the emotions you were harboring spilling out like a dam that had finally been broken. You shook uncontrollably and took giant, gasping breaths as he silently rubbed lines up and down your back. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t _think._ You were just so relieved that he was _okay_. All your fear, all your heartache was finally over. He was there, and he was _safe._

 

“Connor,” You choked out between sobs. “Oh my god, Connor, I’m so glad you’re okay, I was _so scared_ , I-I thought you were... I... I can’t believe...”

 

You dissolved into tears again, unable to express just how _relieved_ you were. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and somehow pulled him closer, as if you were going to blow away. One of his hands went to your hair and he gently caressed it, just like you did when you were trying to calm _him_ down in the car. Your crying slowly subsided, and you let out a shuddering sigh as you leaned into his warmth, feeing all your fears and worries dissolve. You breathed in his familiar, comfortingly clean scent and felt a sense of peace wash over you. In his arms, you finally felt safe, and calm, and _happy._ As long as the two of you were _together,_ you’d be okay.

 

It seemed like an eternity before Connor finally spoke. His voice sounded so normal, so familiar. The last time you heard him speak it was robotic and foreign.

 

“I was never in any real danger,” He mumbled into your ear. “I’m sorry it caused you such distress.”

 

“Never in any real danger?” You laughed humorlessly. “Connor, you were fucking _shot! Three times!_ I was _terrified!_ Please, please, _please,_ never do that again!”

 

Connor didn’t respond, and your brows furrowed. You leaned back to look up at him, loosening your hold on him but not letting go completely. Your eyes met his. His deep brown eyes were staring down at you curiously, almost confusedly.

 

“Connor...” You gripped his arms firmly. “ _Please_ , promise me you’ll never do that again.”

 

Connor looked away, and you frowned. You squeezed his arms to get his attention as you repeated, “Connor?”

 

“I can’t make that promise,” He responded quietly, and you sucked in a breath through your mouth. “There could be a situation in the future-”

 

You cut him off. “No! There is _no_ situation where you need to go in alone like that and risk _dying!_ ”

 

“I wasn’t going to die,” Connor retorted, as if it was common knowledge. “I _can’t_ die. I can just be rebuilt.”

 

“You-” You were at a loss for words. You felt frustration bubbling inside you as you cried, “Cyberlife has stopped making androids, Connor! What if they _couldn’t_ rebuild you? What would we do then?!”

 

Connor didn’t respond, and you huffed angrily. You let go of him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “You’d _die,_ Connor! Like you almost did _yesterday-_ ”

 

“What I did _yesterday_ was necessary,” Connor cut you off. “I apprehended the criminal, and l saved the hostage. My injuries were a small sacrifice compared to what would have happened if I didn’t interfere.”

 

“You could have _died! What_ part of that are you not getting?!” You yelled into his ridiculously calm face.

 

“Give it up, kid. He’s been acting like this ever since he got out,” Hank put a hand on your shoulder, but you smacked it off angrily.

 

You didn’t understand. How did Connor not see the problem? How could he be so... so... emotionless?

 

“What you did was reckless and _stupid,”_ You growled at him.

 

“It was a necessary sacrifice,” Connor replied simply. “I don’t understand why you disagree.”

 

“No, it was _not!_ There were other ways! You didn’t have to go in alone!” You exclaimed.

 

Connor tilted his head at you, an almost amused look on his face. Was he... Was he _enjoying_ this? Was he _enjoying_ making you mad? Was it _entertaining_ to him?

 

“I did what I had to do to save the hostage,” Connor insisted, almost condescendingly. “I’m sorry that _upsets_ you.”

 

Your jaw dropped in shock.

 

“Connor,” You heard Hank say in warning.

 

“You’re _sorry_ that _upsets_ me?” You cried in disbelief. After everything you’d been through, you couldn’t believe how _insensitive_ he was being. You started to shake with rage as your jaw clenched and your heart rate increased _significantly._

 

“Yes. I don’t see a reason to apologize for what I did _._ I de-escalated the situation. I didn’t intend for it to upset you, but I did my _job,_ and I _don’t_ regret it. Besides,” He leaned towards you, with the audacity to smirk as he smugly added, “I finally got you to sing for me.”

 

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, at a loss for words. He got you to _sing_ for him? You were suddenly _furious,_ your face growing hot with indignation. “...How _dare_ you?”

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hank mumbled from beside you as he turned and walked away into the kitchen.

 

“Do you know what I’ve been through because of you?” You whispered in outrage, your head clouding with anger. Your shaking fingers curled into fists as you suppressed the urge to punch something. “I was so _worried_ about you! I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I threw up! Twice! Because I was SCARED! Scared that you were going to _die_ , and I was never going to see you again!”

 

You raked a hand through your hair as you shouted, feeling red-hot rage in every exhausted muscle in your body. “And now you’re telling me you don’t _care_? You’re telling me that you’re _glad_ you did it? You’re _glad_ you put yourself in danger and almost _DIED_ because you did something that could have been by a group of people rather than by one IDIOT who thinks he’s _DISPOSABLE_? A-and you’re saying it’s okay because you got me to _SING_ for you? Did you ever stop and think about what this did to me and Hank? How could you be so... so...?”

 

You looked up at Connor’s face, your nostrils flaring dangerously. Guilt was faintly creeping across his features as you went on. At least he was finally starting to show some emotion.

 

You gritted your teeth and snarled, “How could you be so cold? Maybe.... Maybe you are just a machine.”

 

Connor blinked in surprise, his eyes wide and lips parted in shock, as if you had just slapped him. You heard the sound of something shattering, and when you turned to look, you saw Hank watching you, mouth agape, his empty hand at his mouth as if he was drinking something, water everywhere, and broken glass on the floor. You looked back at Connor, who was still staring at you with an unreadable expression.

 

Without another word, you turned around and walked to the door. You paused as you placed a hand on the doorknob, feeling a twinge of guilt. Maybe you took it too far. You shook your head and squared your shoulders before you yanked opened the door. You hesitated as you looked out into the dark street, the morning light barely peeking through the dark grey clouds. You looked over your shoulder and saw Connor frozen in the exact same position he was when you left him, with Hank by his side, watching you, equally shocked.

 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” You said truthfully, feeling your anger extinguish slightly. “Goodbye.”

 

Just as you were leaving, you heard Hank’s familiar angry voice shout, “Connor, what the FUCK was tha-”

 

He was cut off as you slammed the door behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Ouch.
> 
> [ 2/27/19 EDIT: Changed a line of Connor’s dialogue to make him SLIGHTLY less of a jerk]


	17. Better Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been over a month since the last chapter, and I just wanted to say, thank you all for being so patient and understanding. This fic is not dead, although it will be over soon, so thank you to everyone who has stuck with me! 
> 
> Since it's been so long, I'd recommend re-reading or skimming through the previous chapter to see where we left off!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

It was only when you had reached the street that you realized you hadn’t called a cab yet. You pulled out your phone and angrily typed in the address, your hands still shaking. You growled when you accidentally pressed cancel instead of confirm, and you had to type it in all over again. You jumped at the sound of thunder, and you glanced up at the dark sky. You could hardly see the sunrise past the thick, dark grey clouds. You sighed and wrapped your coat tighter inside yourself.

 

You flinched at the sound of Hank’s muffled voice yelling at Connor from inside the house. You felt some kind of sick, vengeful happiness, but at the same time you knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Hank’s rage. You didn’t wish that on anybody.

 

You kicked at a loose piece of pavement, frustrated with yourself. Even when you were supposed to be mad at Connor, you still felt bad for him. And you had every right to be mad after what he said to you. So _why_ could you not stop _caring_ about him?

 

You still weren’t entirely convinced that he had actually said those things to you. You weren’t entirely convinced that it hadn’t all been a bad dream. You were still asleep, and you’d soon wake up to the sound of Hank calling you. He’d say that Connor was okay, and that he couldn’t wait to see you. You’d get to the house, and Connor would run to you and hold you tight and tell you he missed you. And, most importantly, he’d say-

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Your daydream abruptly ended at the sound of a voice from behind you. Your eyes flew open and you whipped around.

 

Connor was standing on the porch, looking at you in a mixture of guilt and fear. You felt anger flare up inside you again as you crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows at him.

 

“I’m sorry,” He repeated. He stepped down onto the front walk and started to slowly inch towards you. “I shouldn’t have said any of that. Please, don’t leave.”

Your chest heaved as you took huge, angry breaths. You didn’t say anything, you just turned back around and shoved your hands in your pockets.

 

“I should have known that humans react badly to loss,” Connor called to you. “Hank’s a perfect example of that.”

 

“Tell me something,” You snapped, spinning on your heel to face him again. “How would you feel if Hank died, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it?”

 

Connor closed his mouth and his eyes darted down for a moment. When he answered, his voice was uncertain, and subdued. “Please, don’t talk about things like that.”

 

“You’d feel terrible, right?” You insisted, throwing your arms out. “So how do you think _I_ felt when you, one of the most important people in the _world_ to me, almost _died_ in my _arms?”_

Connor looked like he wanted to speak, but you weren’t anywhere near done.

 

“And... and you treat it like a joke!” You cried, bringing your hands up to your head in disbelief. You looked at the ground, unwilling to meet his gaze as you continued, “Look, humans are emotional, and we get attached to things, and when we love things, we- we can’t let them go because it hurts, it hurts _so much!”_

You talked with your hands, gesturing wildly as you started to speak faster and faster. “We’re not rational! We don’t understand that... that you can just be rebuilt because WE don’t work that way! And you probably _wouldn’t_ have been rebuilt anyway!”

 

You turned away from him and pressed your hands to your ears and dug your nails into your scalp. Your eyes stung and your throat felt like it was burning as you stammered, “And God _dammit_ , Connor, it just _hurt so much,_ I was so scared that I was going to lose you _forever_! You... You’re not _disposable_! You’re not!”

 

You felt yourself hunch over, the weight of all your anxiety and grief pushing you down until it felt like your legs were going to give out. Tears were falling uncontrollably as your body shook. You felt panicked, out-of-control, and so _afraid._ Your words tumbled out before you could think them through. _“_ What if we hadn’t gotten you to Cyberlife in time? What would we do without you? What would _I_ do without you? There was so much _blood,_ I was so fucking scared, I-I was _terrified,_ and there was nothing I could _do,_ I _couldn’t handle it_ , I can’t do it without you, I can’t, I can’t, I _can’t! It_ hurt, it hurt _so much,_ Connor, I-I-”

 

Your frantic rambling ended abruptly as you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, and before you could even register what was happening, Connor pulled you towards him and wrapped his arms around you.

 

You fell silent, your breath caught in your throat as Connor buried his face into the crook of your neck. You stayed motionless; your crying momentarily paused in surprise as Connor held you flush to his body. He was desperately gripping on to you, the same way you had held him when you first saw him _._ His arms were tight against your back, and when he moved his hand to the back of your head, you found that it was trembling. His hunched body shook as his tears dripped onto your neck. Thunder boomed overhead again, and you felt tiny, cold drops of rain fall on your face.

 

You were stiff as Connor’s hands changed position every few seconds, as if he wanted to hold your head, shoulders, and the small of your back at the same time, to bring you as close to him as possible. Your arms hung out to your sides, completely still, hanging in the air. You felt the anger you still held in your chest slowly dissolve. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you listened to him cry. You hesitantly brought your arms up, and as soon as your hands met his back, he pulled you even closer to him, resting his chin on your shoulder and nuzzling the side of your head with his nose. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, matching his intensity as you started to cry again.

 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered hurriedly as soon as you hugged back. “When you left I... I felt _horrible_. I can’t believe I said those things to you. I was stupid, and you were right about everything. I put myself in danger, and I hurt you and Hank because of it. I’ll never do anything like that again, just, _please, don’t leave_.”

 

“I’m sorry too,” You choked out through your tears. The rain was coming down harder, and they washed them off your face. “You’re not a machine, and I know that. I was just so angry-”

 

“You have every right to be angry,” Connor murmured.

 

You shook your head. “That doesn’t make it okay for me to call you that. Emotions usually can’t be controlled. It’s what we _do_ about those emotions that counts.”

 

Connor’s thumb ran over your wet hair. There was silence for a moment.

 

“I think... I think I’m _afraid_ of shutting down,” Connor admitted softly, sending ripples of shock down your spine. He was talking slowly, deliberately, as if he was really mulling the words over in his head. “I don’t _want_ to shut down. I... I feel like I always need to be in control, I always need to understand, and I always need to “accomplish my mission.” And, even though I _did_ save the hostage, I felt so... out of control, and ... and _scared.”_

He spoke uncertainty, and you gently rubbed his back in encouragement. _“_ I was _scared_ that I was going to _die_ , a-and that I was never going to see you, Hank, or anyone else ever again. But I _couldn’t_ be scared, because I always need to be calm and collected. Even at the expense of others, I guess.”

 

“...I think I was in denial about that,” He admitted uncertainty. “When you told me you were _scared_ , it... It reminded me of my own fears. But I was denying the way I felt. And... I think that’s why I was so cold to you. I know that doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry.”

 

“I forgive you,” You breathed into his ear, and he audibly sighed in relief. “I... I never knew all of that. I mean, I had a few assumptions, but I never thought it was that... _Intense._ I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. _You_ didn’t make me this way,” He responded bitterly.

 

“...I’m sorry for calling you a machine,” You mumbled guiltily, after a short pause. “I really, really didn’t mean it. And... I know you can’t promise you won’t ever get hurt again. We don’t know what’s going to happen. Just please, be _careful.”_

 

“I will,” Connor promised into your hair, and it was your turn to sigh. “Emotions are just so new to me, and I...”

 

“I understand,” You reassured him, and he seemed relieved to not have to talk about it anymore.

 

The two of you stood in the rain, gently swaying back and forth, neither one of you breaking the embrace. The rain was freezing, but with Connor’s arms wrapped securely around you, you didn’t feel it at all. You finally let go of all your emotions. All the anxiety, and fear, and sadness you had felt that day rolled off your shoulders like the drops falling from the sky.

 

You started to gently sob into his neck, feeling nothing but pure happiness and relief. You had cried so many times that day, but that time, it felt different. Connor rubbed circles into your back, and from the way he was shaking, you could tell that he was crying too. You held on to him, so glad that everything was _finally_ over, that everything would be alright. As long as the two of you were together, everything would be okay.

 

You pulled away, just far enough to see his face while your arms were still wrapped around each other. Rain dripped from his dark hair, plastering it to his forehead. Drops ran down his face, indistinguishable from his tears. His eyes were red from crying, and he looked like a mess, but all you could think about was how beautiful he was.

 

Without thinking, you reached up, cupped the sides of his face with your hands and kissed him.

 

You felt a wave of _something_ flow through your body as your lips met his. They were perfectly shaped, surprisingly soft and warm. He made a quiet noise of shock and went stiff, but after a moment his fingertips gently dug into your back.

 

You felt a flash of pure horror as you realized what you’d done. You broke the kiss and pushed yourself away from him, bringing your hands up to cover your mouth. Your felt your old anxieties rearing their ugly heads again as you looked at up him. Oh god, why did you do that? That was the _worst_ possible time, the two of you weren’t ready for that, he probably didn’t even _want_ that, what were you _thinking,_ how could you be so _stupid,_ you just got him back and now you were going to lose him again, Hank was wrong, of course he didn’t like you, why would he? You felt like throwing up again as your thoughts went wild.

 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what I was thinking, I...” You stammered, feeling your heartbeat sped up and your hands shake. “I’m sorry, please, don’t-”

 

“Do that again,” Connor whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him at first. There was a flash of lightning that illuminated his face as he looked at you in wonder. His lips were parted and his eyes were wide.

 

“...What?” You trembled.

 

He took a step towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you close.

 

“Please...” He said more firmly, looking you in the eyes with an intense stare that made your insides feel like jelly. He leaned in until your faces were so close together that you could feel his hot breath on your lips, and you could count every freckle on his cheeks. “Do that again.”

 

You didn’t protest as he slowly leaned in, and you closed your eyes as his lips met yours. The same _something_ washed over you, making your whole body tingle.

 

As you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, all you could feel was him. His arms were tight against your back, his chest was pulled up against yours, so close you could feel his heart beating through his wet shirt, His warmth enveloped you as he kissed you. The constant, rhythmic sound of the rain faded into white noise as his warm, wet lips pressed against yours.

 

The kiss felt unsure and hesitant at first. He was new, and you were rusty, but soon it just felt _right_. His lips were perfectly shaped, like they were made for you, and you hungrily, almost greedily kissed them. They didn’t have a taste as much as they just tasted _nice,_ almost sweet _._ The smell of the rain combined with his familiar, calming scent, and you sighed, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. He made a small noise that sent a tiny shiver down your spine, and your toes curled involuntary as one of his hands snaked its way up your neck, his fingers lacing through your wet hair as he held your head in place. You couldn’t move, even if you wanted to.

 

And you did _not_ want to move. The way he kissed you made your heart feel like it was going to burst, like it was so full of _love_ that it couldn’t contain it all. Your thoughts felt fuzzy and clouded, and all you could think about was how _good_ his lips felt against yours. Your lips moved slowly and gently against his, and he matched your pace perfectly. His fingers dug into your waist, causing you to jolt slightly. It sent shock waves thought your exhausted limbs, and you couldn't stop the quiet moan that came from your throat.

 

Slowly, you pulled your lips away from his, panting. You giggled lightly at the woozy way he leaned forward, chasing the kiss.

 

With his lips parted, he looked stunned and dazed as his hooded eyes met yours. His chest heaved up and down, as if he was out of breath as well. His lips were pink and shiny, and it wasn’t because of the rain. His hair and clothes were completely soaked, and you dimly realized that yours were as well.

 

“We shouldn’t stand in the rain,” You murmured, and he closed his mouth and nodded breathlessly.

 

He held your hand as he led you to the porch, where you sat down and put your feet on the step. He sat down next to you, and you leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. He cautiously placed a hand on your waist, and you wrapped your arms around him and laced your fingers together on his hip. You sighed contently as he laid his cheek on the top of your head.

 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just watching the rain together.

 

“I’ve see people kiss before,” Connor began quietly. “But I never knew that’s what it felt like.”

 

“That was your first kiss?” You asked, and you felt Connor’s head nod.

 

“I... I’ve never really felt anything like that before either,” You admitted. You felt him tighten his grip on your waist.

 

You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the rain as it fell. Lightning occasionally lit up the sky, always proceeded by thunder. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you realized, there were no nerves to calm. You weren’t anxious, or worried, or scared. It was a nice change of pace.

 

“You were here last night,” Connor mentioned, somewhat out of the blue.

 

“How could you tell?”

 

“For one, you used our food, made soup, and left dirty dishes in the sink,” Connor listed, and you laughed.

 

“I made it for Hank. Sorry about leaving the dishes, though. I can clean them if you want me to.”

 

“I’ve already taken care of them.”

 

“Of course you did,” You smiled to yourself.

 

“Thank you for feeding Sumo and Cali,” Connor’s thumb brushed against your side.

 

“They were really hungry,” You remarked.

 

“I’m not surprised. They hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

 

You hummed in response, nuzzling into his shoulder.

 

“You went through my side of the closet,” Connor commented, and you choked on your own saliva.

 

“What? No I didn’t,” You claimed, and you felt Connor smile into your hair.

 

“Your fingerprints are all over my clothes, _especially_ the shirt I’m currently wearing,” Connor stated, his voice shifting into “investigative mode.” “You shouldn’t lie to the person specifically made to be able to tell when someone’s lying.”

 

“I was looking for clean clothes for Hank,” You defended yourself. “I just so _happened_ to come across your clothes, and I just so _happened_ to look through them.”

 

“Is that right?” Connor teased, and you mmm-hmm’d. “Then why did you take this shirt off its hanger?”

 

“It reminded me of you,” You said sincerely, and you felt him pull you closer to him.

 

There was silence for a moment, but wasn’t awkward. It was just comfortable.

 

“If you don’t mind me asking... What does this mean?” Connor asked. “About the two of us.”

 

You were silent for a moment, before you murmured, “Today, while I was waiting, and I didn’t know if you would… I didn’t know if everything was going to be okay, I realized something.”

 

Connor waited for you to continue, instead of responding.

 

“I realized that... I’m not going to be here forever. And you’re not either. So, y’know, why hesitate? Life’s short, and we have no way of knowing how long any of us have left. So why not just go for it, right? Why not?”

 

You drummed your fingers against Connor’s jacket. “There used to be lots of reasons not to. Lots of things I told myself that kept me from doing what I wanted. But those were all just… lies. Or, at least, they’re lies now.”

 

“And what do you want?” Connor asked softly, somehow innocent and suggestive at the same time.

 

You took a deep breath. Were you really going through with this?

 

You picked your head up off of Connor’s shoulder and held his empty hand. You twisted until you could clearly see his face. You swallowed your fear as you met his curious gaze. His eyes watched you closely, analyzing your every move as you took a deep breath in.

 

“I want-” Your voice cracked, and you cleared it before you continued, “I want to you to know that I... I...”

 

His big, beautiful brown eyes watched you patiently as you struggled to speak. You felt him squeeze your hands, and you realized, you had nothing to fear. It was _Connor._ And no matter what, the two of you would be okay.

 

“I love you,” You breathed.

 

Connor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt a flurry of emotions. Your heart picked up speed again, and you felt your cheeks and ears go red.

 

“A-and maybe I don’t know what love really is,” You stuttered, breaking eye contact to nervously fiddle with your hair. “But I do know that I love being around you, and talking to you, and listening to your voice. I love your hair and your eyes, and the way you’re always fixing your tie, and how sometimes you’ll try to fix it even when you’re not wearing it. Your smiles are all so wonderful and perfect, and your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the whole world. You’re so thoughtful and kind, and I absolutely _adore_ all the odd little things you do. I care about you _so much,_ and I think about you _all the time,_ so much so that it’s actually really distracting. I think you’re amazing and funny and so fucking _hot,_ and whenever I’m with you, I feel like everything’s going to be alright. You make me feel so safe, and _happy,_ and… and... I think I love you.”

 

You shyly looked up at him as you finished your gushing, unsure of how he’d react.

 

Connor just stared at you, his mouth ajar and cheeks lightly dusted pink. It felt like forever before his lips snapped shut and he swallowed.

 

“I... I think I love you too,” He replied quietly, after a long moment. “…I don’t really understand how you make me feel.”

 

Connor looked away nervously, and his fingers tapped against your side. He looked like he was struggling to find the right words, and you gently ran your thumb over his knuckles in what you hoped was a comforting gesture.

 

“Whenever I’m around you, I feel this... pressure, in my chest. It’s similar to happiness, but it’s also... different. I can’t really describe it. I.... I _like_ the way you make me feel. You make me feel happy, and like I’m more than just what I was programmed to be. You make me feel... _alive_. I think about you whenever you’re near, and even when you’re not. I think about you all the time, actually. You make me act so _irrationally,_ and everything I know tells me that I should be afraid of that, but because it’s _you,_ I’m... not. Does that make any sense?”

 

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your cheeks as he spoke. As you listened to him, you felt a familiar warmth in your heart.

 

It was the same thing you felt when you first heard him laugh.

 

It was the same thing you felt when you caught him humming your favorite song.

 

It was the same thing you felt when the two of you adopted Cali together.

 

It was the same thing you felt when he rescued you from Gavin and the spider.

 

It was the same thing you felt at the baseball game, and at the waterfall, and on the beach. The same intoxicating, overwhelming, _amazing_ feeling.

 

And that was love, wasn’t it?

 

“That makes... A lot of sense, actually,” You admitted as you grinned from ear to ear. “I feel the same way.”

 

Connor smiled at you, a beautiful mixture of relief and joy. You laughed, and threw your arms around him. Your lips pressed a kiss on his cheek, and you felt his arms tighten around your back. He turned his head, and your noses bumped together. You giggled, but it was abruptly cut off as he tilted his head and his mouth connected with yours.

 

You were caught off guard, and jolted at Connor’s sudden boldness. His lips were eager, passionate, almost forcefully moving against yours. You closed your eyes and gladly reciprocated, one hand holding on to the hair on the back of his head as he kissed you. You let out a squeak of surprise as Connor pulled you up until you were sitting on his lap, straddling his legs. His arms wrapped around you once again, and you shivered as his thumb snuck under your shirt and brushed the bare skin on your lower back.

 

Connor suddenly broke away, and you opened your eyes and let out a noise of protest, but it was caught in your throat as his lips met the sensitive skin on your neck. Your nails dug into his scalp as he kissed just under the bones in your jaw, causing an adrenaline rush through your body. Jesus, where had he learned _that?_ He broke contact before it left a mark, and you immediately reconnected with his lips. This time, it was your turn to make _him_ squirm as you pushed your tongue past his lips, and into his mouth. He made a (ridiculously cute) noise, and pulled your body even closer to his.

 

Suddenly, you heard the sound of a doorknob turning, and before you could even react, the door swung open, illuminating you and Connor.

 

“Is everything- Oh, for FUCK’S SAKE,” Hank exclaimed, and you swiftly shot away from Connor. You hastily wiped away the saliva on your mouth as you sheepishly looked up at him. Your cheeks went red-hot in embarrassment as your eyes met his face, where you found a look of disgust.

 

Connor’s arms stayed around your waist, and he made no effort to push you away as he twisted to face Hank. “Hello, Lieutenant.”

 

Hank tiredly rubbed his eyes with his hands, everything about his body language screaming, _‘I’m not surprised, but I still regret everything.’_

 

It was a while before he said anything. He sounded defeated as he sighed, “Just… no fucking on my porch, okay?”

 

“W-we weren’t-” You started to stammer.

 

“Nope. Don’t care. Goodbye,” Hank interrupted as he closed the door. Right before it shut, you heard him grumble, “It’s about goddamn time…”

 

You felt like crawling in a hole and dying as you and Connor exchanged a look in the dark. You let out an embarrassed groan as your head dropped onto his chest. He patted your back comfortingly. Still straddling him, you sighed and snuggled into his warmth, too tired to try to move. You rested your chin on his shoulder and closed your eyes as he enveloped you in another hug.

 

You yawned, listening to the gentle sound of the rain. You felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness, and you welcomed it.

 

“You’re falling asleep,” Connor informed you after a minute. Maybe it was ten minutes. Or was it just a few seconds? You had no concept of how much time had passed as you jolted awake. After you got your bearings, you sighed.

 

“Yeah, I guess I am. I’m... really tired,” You yawned.

 

“You haven’t slept enough,” Connor said, matter-of-fact.

 

“Of course I haven’t,” You retorted. You rubbed your eyes, but didn’t have enough energy to open them again once your arms dropped back down and your head rested itself on Connor’s shoulder. “Is that your polite way of telling me to leave?”

 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Connor replied, and you smiled to yourself as your mind rather childishly went, ‘ _He loooooooves you and wants you to staaaay!’_

“However,” Connor continued, “It would be wise to go home. You need dry clothes and sleep, or else you might get sick.”

 

“Curse you for being so sensible and considerate,” You half-heartedly joked. “But yeah. You’re right, I should go home…”

 

You trailed off as your eyes closed once more. You felt yourself drifting off to sleep again, but you didn’t have the willpower to fight it. The rhythmic sound of the rain was like a lullaby

 

“Maybe you should stay here,” Connor offered quietly.

 

You felt a flash of panic as your eyes flew open. Stay overnight? Weren’t you moving a little bit… fast? That seemed like something a couple would do a month or two in a relationship, not the first day. First night? Whatever it was, it made your stomach churn unpleasantly.

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Connor spoke hurriedly.

 

“No, no, it’s okay! I appreciate the offer!” You reassured him, but paused for a moment as you thought. You trusted Connor. You knew he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. Besides, you just got him back, and you weren’t ready to leave him just yet. What’s the worst that could happen? “I would love to stay. As long as Hank’s okay with it.”

 

Connor immediately perked up. “Really?”

 

“Yeah, sure! I can crash on the couch, right?” You asked, sounding significantly more confident than you felt.

 

“Of course. But first, you need dry clothes,” Connor announced. You looked down at your damp clothes and nodded. Connor gently lifted you off his lap, set you down on the porch and stood up. You immediately felt like an icicle without his warmth. He held a hand down to you, and you took it in your own as you heaved yourself up. Connor led you inside the house, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you stood in the entryway.

 

“I’ll find you something to wear after I ask Hank if you can stay,” Connor called as he disappeared into the bedroom. He closed the door behind him, and you were left alone in the hall. Well, maybe not entirely alone. Cali and Sumo came charging over to greet you, looking relieved that you were no longer angry.

 

You tried not to eavesdrop; you really did. But Hank had a tendency to be loud, and so you ended up listening to his and Connor’s conversation as you patted Cali and Sumo’s heads.

 

“Stay _here?”_ Hank’s voice floated through the door.

 

You couldn’t make out what Connor responded with, but you did catch the word “exhausted.”

 

“No way-” Hank started, but he stopped abruptly, presumably cut off by Connor. You leaned in, trying to listen.

 

“Please, Lieutenant. I promise…” Connor started, but you couldn’t hear what he ended that sentence with.

 

There was a pause, and you held your breath until Hank caved and exclaimed, “Fine, fine, but if I catch the two of you doing anything, I fucking swear to god, Connor, I’ll-”

 

“Nothing like that will be necessary. Thank you, Hank,” You heard Connor’s voice getting louder, and you jumped away from the door and busied yourself with petting the dogs as it opened.

 

“Hank is okay with you staying for a few hours,” Connor informed you.

 

“Cool! thanks Hank!” You called into the bedroom.

 

“No funny business, you hear me?” Hank growled back.

 

“Aye aye, captain,” You saluted him, and he grumbled something under his breath as he slammed the door behind Connor. You snorted.

 

“These should be fine,” Connor said to you, and you were confused until you looked down at the clothes he was holding in his hands.

 

You quickly took them from him. They looked like a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and they felt impossibly soft. “Oh, thank you! I’ll go get changed, then.”

 

Connor nodded, and you turned and retreated into the bathroom.

 

Connor was waiting for you by the couch when you returned to the hall. Now in dry clothes himself, he had made a bed out of blankets and pillows for you on the couch. You sank down on the cushions and finally felt your exhaustion weighing down on you. You yawned, and your eyes drooped involuntarily.

 

“If you need anything, I’ll be nearby,” Connor set the last pillow down where your head would go. He turned, and started to walk to the kitchen, but you grabbed his hand.

 

“Stay,” You pleaded as you tightened your hold on his fingers. He looked at you with a slightly confused expression, but he didn’t protest as he sat down next to you.

 

You shook your head, still not satisfied, and Connor tilted his head at you. You leaned over to wrap your arms around him. He went to return the hug, but before he could move you pulled him down until the two of you were lying, smushed together on the couch.

 

“Oh,” Connor breathed, finally understanding. He stayed still as you shifted into a more comfortable position, which was basically you laying on top of him. Wow, your sleep-deprived self had serious confidence. You rested your cheek on his chest and listened to the sound of his thirium pump, as if to make sure it was still working. He was alive. He was okay.

 

Connor was still frozen, and you felt a twinge of concern. “Is this okay?” You whispered as you brought one hand up to his shoulder.

 

“Yes,” Connor reassured you quickly. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, and you smiled into his shirt.

 

“Do you sleep?” You questioned him, mid-yawn.

 

“Not like you do,” Connor explained as he pulled the blanket up to your chin. “Androids have a power conservation, or “sleep” mode.”

 

“That’s good,” You murmured, already slipping into unconsciousness.

 

That moment was the safest and most content you had ever been. There in his arms, you felt like everything was going to be fine. There were no worries of how it would affect your relationship, or what would happen when you woke up. You knew that you loved him, and he loved you, and that no matter what, everything would be okay.

 

And you were happy.

 

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of Connor’s lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want a good visualization of the hug Connor gives the reader near the beginning of the chapter, watch this video at 1:35 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEQcQ-1feqA
> 
> Some of you predicted that Cyberlife did something to Connor. They didn't. If you want to see my reasoning, check the comments.
> 
> There's only one more chapter left! I have officially written more words in this fanfiction than the first Harry Potter book! That is mind-boggling. With the end so near, I'd just like to say thank you all so much for reading! I absolutely could not have done this much without all of your support!
> 
> With the exception of the first four chapters and chapter ten, every chapter title is also a song title. I thought I'd provide links to those songs, and a short explanation to why they were chosen for the title. If you don't want to read it, that's fine. Think of this next part as like, author's notes, or the director's commentary on a DVD.
> 
> \- Chapter 5 - In the Same Boat - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJZgCfRDRaI  
> Last year, my school performed the musical "Curtains." There are lots of fun songs in Curtains! In fact, the original title for this chapter was "A Tough Act to Follow," another song from Curtains! I changed it because it didn't fit as well with the content of the chapter, although I do prefer A Tough Act to Follow as a song.
> 
> \- Chapter 6 - Like Ships - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KVTjpoYxMA8  
> I LOVE this song. It's from the Cartoon Network mini-series, Over the Garden Wall. If you haven't watched it, please do, because it's really good! Anyway, I chose Like Ships because the message of two complete strangers having no knowledge or reason to cross paths, but somehow they still find each other anyway is super sweet. It doesn't especially fit with the chapter, but I just like it a lot.
> 
> \- Chapter 7 - Can't Say No - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmXrLO-bFh0  
> April Smith and the Great Picture Show! Such an underappreciated group! But anyway, this title has a kind of double meaning. Connor can't say no to adopting Cali, and the reader can't say no to falling in love with him. Even though the song is about someone trying to leave from someone who doesn't treat them well enough but they can't, I feel like it still applies to the reader's situation a little bit. Kind of. I just love ASatGPS! Nobody calls them that, because nobody knows their music, which is such a shame, because I love it!
> 
> \- Chapter 8 -Terrible Things - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9e9B66m_Sp4  
> Sorry, another ASatGPS song, I just couldn't help myself! This song really has no correlation to the plot of the chapter. The only connection is the title, because spiders are terrible things. But it's a really good song for machine Connor! Or possibly RK900 depending on your interpretation of his personality.
> 
> \- Chapter 9 - Clover - https://soundcloud.com/louie-zong/clover  
> Louie Zong is one of my favorite artists! His songs are all so fun and nice to listen to! Anyway, all the lyrics in this song are pretty much how the reader feels about Connor. Also, the whole "lucky" thing, and Connor winning the tickets. Not a whole lot of explanation needed, haha.
> 
> \- Chapter 11 - Superstition - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftdZ363R9kQ  
> Basically the only reason I chose this song is because the citizens of Detroit were superstitious and believed that androids were not alive? I don't really know, I just think this song is a bop. Like, listen to those trumpets! So good.
> 
> \- Chapter 12 - Hello World - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yw6u6YkTgQ4  
> This song is melancholic for me. The little robot's singing is adorable, THEY are adorable, but they're also like, super oppressed. So it's PERFECT for Detroit! Actually, there's a very cute animatic of this song, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-JiqZ51uJ8 . The art style is very simplistic but that paired with the music is just super pleasing to me. But yeah, cute little singing robot trying to find its place in the world, and cute not-so little detective robot trying to find his place in the world. Also, they're literally saying, "hello, world" to nature, so, double meaning!
> 
> \- Chapter 13 - The Golden Hour - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlAahnk74x4  
> This song is one of my favorite songs of all time. Louie Zong has the miraculous ability to capture a moment of time in music, and I just think that's extraordinary. His music always has a definite FEEL to it, and I absolutely love it. I just thought it matched the mood of the chapter well, especially the sunset scene.
> 
> \- Chapter 14 - Drop Dead Gorgeous - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyVNMMeYc7U  
> The song has absolutely nothing to do with the chapter. I just thought the name was hilarious, given the context of the chapter.
> 
> (I ran out of space here, so it's continued in the comments)


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